Genshin Dottore - Tumblr Posts
i was lookin at Mulani and thought, u know what would be funny? if dottore could surf on his bird thingie
because i think great thoughts like that
anyway i tried to draw it :) it's not weird i swear, this is normal
fellow Dottore simp 🤝I have to say I love your blog colour the bestest blue. Your art is so good and your poses !eating em up
Dottore core. Thank you <3 🩵
Could you please write about the Harbingers and their voice lines for the reader? Like them telling the traveler about you and stuff :)
♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬’ 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡
synopsis: The Traveler expected the Harbingers to be cold and ruthless in pursuing whatever the Fatui's goals were. Hearing their loving voice lines on you was certainly the opposite of what they predicted.
includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader
notes: I've wanted to do something like this for a while. It was rather cute and fun to write! Includes five voice lines about you for each Harbinger.
Pierro:
About You - His Lover:
“So you’ve already met [Name], Traveler? I’m not surprised, they like to talk to people, especially when they see me speaking to others. They’re quite energetic and bouncy, aren’t they? But I can’t say I dislike that about them. They are a bright light in my life.”
Chat - Walks:
“Much of our time spent together is on walks outside in Sneznhaya, with the snow gently melting on us. It’s a rather simple activity to most, but irreplaceable to both of us. I hope, after everything is said and done, I can take them on walks in other places.”
About Your Patience:
“They never comment on it, but I know they get lonely without me. For most of the day, they do not see me due to my work, and even when they try to stay up late for my return, they end up falling asleep sometimes. I truly wish I could spend more time with them. But I know, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream, I will give them everything and more.”
Something To Share - Meals:
“I don’t think about what I eat or when I do very often. It doesn’t matter much to me, but [Name] clearly disagrees. Instead of the maids preparing my meals, they started cooking everything for me and adding little notes too. It’s very endearing of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down when the other soldiers saw me eating heart-shaped cookies with smiley faces on them…”
About You - A Second Home:
“I remember the destruction of my homeland clearly. It is something I will never forget. But even though I have only a small portion of time with them, they never fail to make me feel… content. With them, I can forget about everything, even if it is just for a few minutes. Heh, sometimes I foolishly wish they lived in Khaenri’ah with me for a bit, if only to experience a normal life with them.”
Capitano:
About You - His Lover:
“There is nothing I cherish more than [Name]. Many people often comment on our relationship, after all, we are quite different in all aspects. But I have them to thank for many things. They have taught me many things I could have never learned on my own.
Chat - Souvenirs:
“Traveler, you have been to many nations for extended periods of time. Would you share some items that would make good souvenirs? I always make sure to bring something back for them. If you have any recipes to share, that would be greatly appreciated as well. Whenever I am back home, [Name] always insists on having all of our meals together.”
A Special Item - The Kamera:
“You must be wondering why someone like me carries around something like this. I never cared for the device until [Name] told me about it and asked me to take photos on my expeditions. I guess I’ve unintentionally become a master without knowing it because they always praise the pictures I take when they organize them in their scrapbook.”
Something To Share - Smiles:
“I am not adept at smiling at all, or very expressive in general, something [Name] has an issue with. Oftentimes, they sit on my lap and try to get me to show some emotion on my face. Reading stories, telling jokes… they try it all quite frequently. While I don’t think it’s working very well, I enjoy their antics.”
About You - Reminiscing:
“I remember once I walked in on them trying on my helmet and coat. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I couldn’t help but notice how small they looked buried under my clothes. But quickly I worried about whether their head could take the weight of my helmet. Before I could say anything, they saw me and scurried away in embarrassment. I never brought it up again, but it was rather cute.”
“Huh… Paimon would have never guessed Capitano was like this. When we go to Snezhnaya, we have to find this guy’s mansion somehow! Paimon wants to meet [Name]!”
Columbina:
About You - Her Lover:
“Hmm~hmm~♫ Oh, hello there, Traveler. Ah, I see you’ve brought [Name] with you too, come here, my dear. Hmm? Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. They are my partner in love, music, in everything. Perhaps you should come to one of our shows one day. I’d say we are quite good.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“I love going to watch plays with them. The theater is one of the places where we spend a lot of time. I always end up humming along to the songs. Sometimes, when the theater is unoccupied, we act out certain scenes together. Say, Traveler, have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?”
Chat - Naps:
“Hmm… what time is it? The weather just feels perfect for a midday nap. [Name] always indulges me whenever I want when I want to doze off. This surface is no match for their pillowy softness, but it’ll have to do for now…”
“Hey, you can’t just fall asleep in the middle of- oh… Paimon doesn’t know how she can knock out that quickly.”
Secret Hobby - Poems About You:
“Your bright smile that can go on for a mile,
Unmatchable style with a laugh that never ends for a while.
Sweet lips that I want to savor,
Ah, I am so glad I am in your favor.
Or should I say “For you make me ever the more braver”...? What do you think, Traveler?”
Something Interesting - Liyue Opera:
“Traveler, I hear that there is a talented opera troupe in Liyue with beautiful music and songs. Oh, you’ve met them yourself? I would love to attend it with [Name]. They love listening to music from around Teyvat, and I have to agree with them. Haha… I can’t wait to take them out of Snezhnaya for a bit.”
Dottore:
About You - His Lover:
“Hmph, you wish to know about [Name], I hear?”
“Yeah! Paimon wants to know what kind of person would stay with a madman- I mean! A Fatui Harbinger! You know, since that’s quite dangerous and all.”
“Hehe, is that so? Too bad, because I have no obligation to tell you. But they are truly… ah, never mind.”
“Aww… Paimon really wanted to know what he was going to say.”
About You And The Segments:
“Some of the segments are quite fond of them, while some do not know them very well. After all, they were cloned at different parts of my life, before and after I met them. I must say… it’s can be hard to get some of the other segments away from them. I didn’t think they would hoard [Name]’s attention so much…”
“Is it just Paimon, or does Dottore’s attentiveness towards them grow as each clone gets older? And hey, is Dottore jealous-”
“Shush Paimon, before he hears you!”
About You - Whereabouts:
"It's time for their medicine... Hmm, have you seen them, Traveler? You saw them leave and go into the city? And you didn't stop them? Tch, useless. I must simply go and find them myself... Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want you talking to [Name], anyway."
About You - Health Concerns:
“Ever since our Akademiya days, [Name] has been plagued with an unknown and virtually incurable disease. It is essential that they take their medicine every day, but they often try to avoid it, after doing it for so long. This is why I and the clones always keep an eye on them.”
“Aw, so that’s why [Name] always looks so tired whenever Paimon sees them… That must be so hard.”
“… I don’t care what methods or tactics I have to employ, or if the Gods or even you, Traveler, get in my way. I will cure them of their sickness. Nothing will stop me.”
When The Sun Is Out:
“Hm, it’s a perfect day for [Name] to take a walk. The fresh air is always good for their health. Perhaps a boat ride is in order as well.”
“Oooh, Paimon loves the sound of that! Maybe we can fish and eat it too!”
“Why would I ever invite you to be with us? I’m sure your very existence would give them a headache.”
“Hey, how rude!!”
Pulcinella:
About You - Relationship:
“You were fighting some hilichurls when someone called [Name] joined you? And they ended up lighting an explosive barrel? Wherever that child goes, they always bring trouble with them. But don’t hold it against them. They are a lovely person to be around.”
Stories To Tell:
“They always pester me to tell them stories. Though, this is not a bad thing at all. Not many are willing to listen to this old man ramble on willingly. Ah, youth is a wonderful thing. Would you like to join us next time, Traveler?”
Chat - New Things:
“Indeed, they have taught me many things. The latest trends, songs, books, and more that their generation is into. Sometimes I struggle to understand some of what they say too… the world is changing so quickly.”
About You - Baking:
“We bake together quite often. Most of the time, I have to direct them, otherwise, they will burn down the kitchen which has happened multiple times before. Pantalone was not happy. I have never seen a youngster with such little aptitude for cooking, but surprisingly, it is great fun.”
About You - Family:
“Ever since they were young, they were quite rebellious. Running away from the castle, pretending to be asleep after bedtime, beating up all the Fatui soldiers during sparring without hesitance. If anyone else besides me had to take care of them, it would not have ended well. But, I am truly glad they are in my care. I have thought of them as my own child for a long time. If it wasn’t for the possible danger, I’d have officially adopted them long ago.”
Scaramouche:
About You - His Lover:
“Huh? How do you know about [Name]?”
“Well, we just happened to see them with you once. You were actually smiling! And later we went up and spoke to them for a bit, and they were really nice! They told us that they were your-”
“Ugh, that idiot! Always trusting people so blindly… Anyway, I don’t need you to know anything else. It isn’t your business.”
A Little Secret:
“I wonder if they could make dango for me again… it’s been a long time since I’ve had it. But how do I get them to make it without directly asking? How bothersome… huh? How long have you been there, Traveler? You didn’t hear anything, did you?!”
Something To Share - Burdened Feelings:
“I once tried to wipe my emotions and feelings of them away into nothingness. It felt preposterous to me that I could feel something for a human, one that could barely fight nonetheless. But when I lost the Gnosis, when I lost everything, as I fell down, the only thing that I saw in my mind was their stupid smile…”
When It Rains:
“Whenever it rained, they would always huddle themselves close to me under my hat. At first, I pushed them away, but the look on their face made me allow them to continue. Sometimes, I make sure to take them out on a day that’s expected to rain just to see them do that. Don’t you dare tell them that though, Traveler.”
About Beelzebul:
“[Name] is always telling me to reconcile with her, but what would she think of me, or of them? How would she act toward me? Would she even remember me? There’s that irritating shrine maiden too… Hmm? It’s nothing. Let’s keep moving.”
Arlecchino:
About You - Her Lover:
“[Name]? Yes, they are my partner. I suppose those Fatui recruits can’t keep their mouths shut about other people’s business for very long. Hmm? You’re surprised that I was so direct about it? Well, there’s no reason to hide it. But I would prefer that this discussion ends here. I like to keep my time with them private.”
When It’s Sunny:
“This weather is not my favorite. I prefer the cold much more than this blistering heat. But I did hear [Name] say that they would like to visit a beach someday. Hmm… say, Traveler, is Yaoguang Shoal a good spot?”
Something To Share - Quietly Loving:
“I’m sure you have realized by now that I am not very good with words or emotions. These things are far from my expertise. However, they seem to not mind my behavior, talking enough for both of us. But if they ever requested anything from me, I would do it without hesitance. No one else comes close.”
Chat - Coffee:
“One cup of coffee, with whipped cream, syrup, and sugar please.”
“…Eh?!! Arlecchino, what are you saying? You always order your coffee black!”
“I know. To be honest, I could not care less about all these extra ingredients. But… they always used to try and add things to sweeten the drink behind my back. I suppose I… miss them. This reminds me of them, a bit.”
“Aww… Paimon guesses that even the scariest and coldest of people can have someone special to them.”
About You - The Orphanage:
“They often spend their time with the orphans. I was initially surprised at first, and so were the other soldiers, but it worked out in our favor. The children love them far more than they will for me or the recruits. [Name] is a gentle and patient soul, after all. Reading stories, putting the kids to sleep… they are quite hard working despite having no need to.”
La Signora:
About You - Her Lover:
“My darling [Name] is the most perfect lover one could ask for. They are beautiful, inside and out. How I love to pamper them so… actually, there are a couple of new outfits I want them to try on. I can’t wait to see how they look. They are all mine.”
When It’s Windy:
“Tch, this wind is messing up my hair and clothes. [Name] used to always brush and take care of my hair after a long day, after I showed them how to do it correctly of course. Traveler, I’m afraid I have to go now. I must see them again.”
About You - Letters:
“Hmm, hmm, hmm… and it’s done.”
“Hey Signora, what are you writing?”
“Just a letter to my dearest. They are expecting something from me soon.”
“Wow, so you can send letters with your fire moths? That’s resourceful!”
“Of course. I always let a few stay around [Name] as well. If any of them happen to be extinguished, I’ll know if anything happened to them.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“There’s nothing that pleases me more than seeing them all dolled up in the latest fashion. They look simply exquisite, especially when we do each other’s makeup. But I also adore seeing them lounge around in their favorite hoodies. They look great in anything, really.”
Something To Share - Past Grief, New Happiness:
“Sometimes, it feels just like yesterday when I lost him. Grief and bitterness wrapped around my heart like a cocoon that would never hatch. But when I fell in love with them, I felt something that I had not felt in far too long. That cocoon started to shatter little by little, as I started to remember how to love again. I truly love them wholly with whatever’s remaining of my heart.”
Pantalone:
About You - His Lover:
“So, you’ve met [Name], I hear. What do you think of them? Beautiful, am I right? Of course, they are nothing short of perfection to me. Hardworking, determined, helpful… I could go on about them. Say, Traveler, would you be so kind to direct me to some of the best shops around here? I would like to find some gifts to send to them while we’re here.”
Worries - Financial Concerns:
“Traveler, I have a great issue on my hands. [Name] has apparently forbidden me from spending any more Mora on them. They keep saying that they do not need anything else, but how can I restrain myself from spoiling my darling?”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Oftentimes, we like to end off the day with some leisurely reading. The feeling of them laying against my chest, legs intertwined, as I whisper certain parts of the book softly into their ear, delighting as they turn warm- oho, your face is all red. Did I make you embarrassed? Apologies, I get carried away when talking about them.”
About You - First Meeting:
“My childhood is not something that I like to remember. But, despite everything, it is pleasant to think about the first time I met them. They were poor, just like me, barely scraping by, though they never failed to greet me every day with a big smile. [Name] would take over the grueling working shifts for me and the younger kids sometimes, and sneak bits of food out the window to me. Even with the fact that I was surrounded by poverty, I couldn’t help but think I had a true gem right in front of me. ”
When It’s Cold:
“I confess, I do enjoy the cold, but most of it is due to how adorable [Name] looks all bundled up in my fur coats. Or how they always dive under the covers and refuse to get up for anything. It is always a struggle for even me to get up from bed when they are so warm, too.”
Sandrone:
About You - Her Lover:
“They are my loyal assistant and lover, always willing to help out with any experiment I ask. I have known them for a very long time. They have always been the one to drag me out of the lab to get some fresh air… as a matter of fact, I think it’s about this time when they come to harass me. Somehow they’ve gotten half the robots on their side, too.”
When It’s Raining:
“This weather is good for testing how waterproof my robots are and the joints of my Automatons. A long time ago, I built a feature for an umbrella into some of my creations so whenever [Name] and I went for walks and it rained, we would be fine. Huh, you’re asking if you can use it? No, you can’t.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Eh? Sandrone, what is all this? You’re all dressed up!”
“Oh, it’s you. I’m simply preparing for my favorite event with my dear lover. We’ve just finished repairing an ancient Automaton, and they’ve decided a tea party is in order.”
“Wow! Even the robots have spiffy suits on! It smells so good here too, hehe, Paimon wants a taste of the tea and cookies too- w-woah! Where’d all these big robots come from?! Hey, let Paimon down!”
“This is for [Name] and I only. Now shoo. The tea party is set to begin soon, and I must welcome my honored guest…”
Inspiration - New Creations:
“Before I met them, I had never thought of using my skills to create mundane things that weren’t war machines or destructive Automatons. I thought anything else would be a waste of time, but surprisingly, it is not too bad. It’s quite nice to feel their fascinated face in the crook of my neck while I work. I usually gift these creations to them, anyway. They’re not much use to me, but [Name] likes these kinds of things.”
The Future - Fontaine Frenzy:
“I hear that I am set to head out to Fontaine soon. I would love to see the faces of those poor souls when they realize their technology is nothing compared to what the Fatui has created. Ah, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you there too. Will you be able to keep up with [Name] and I, Traveler? I must warn you, they are a formidable foe, with their refined skill and raw power from my mechanical attachments. Now that I think about there, there were some new weapons we wanted to try out… hehe, I can’t wait.”
Childe:
About You - His Lover:
“Oho, interested in [Name] are you? I don’t blame you - they are truly an amazing person. Sweet, kind, and caring, not to mention, they are incredibly strong as well. Teucer loves them too, always wanting piggyback rides. I can’t wait to introduce them to the rest of my family.”
About You - First Meeting:
“I clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on them. I was passing through Liyue when I heard of an archery competition, and naturally, I was eager to test my skills. I was sure that I would win first place, but what did you know! Someone called [Name] had stolen that spot from me. Long story short, I pestered them until they fought me, and they really did beat me down. Haha, it feels so long ago, now that I look back on it.”
When It Snows:
“I once took [Name] to Dragonspine, because they wanted to see the snow as it was a rare occurrence in Liyue. You should have seen them, hah! Shaking and sniffling like it was the end of the world. And it wasn’t even that cold, as least compared to my homeland. Why didn’t I take them to Snezhnaya? Don’t worry, I plan to, very, very soon…
About You - Whereabouts:
"Have you seen them, Traveler? No? Haha, they must be hiding from me again. I guess I’ve asked them to spar too many times. Comrade, if you happen to see [Name], tell them I’m waiting at Northland Bank for them. Xinyue Kiosk, my treat.”
About You - Safety:
“Heh, I wonder what they’re doing right now. I hope they haven’t been roped into any strange commissions again. They are too helpful for their own good. If anything happened to them while I’m gone… Traveler, if you happen to be around, please help them. I’ll owe you, comrade.”
you pace outside the closed doors of the grand hall, thumbs nervously fumbling with each other. the harbingers’ meeting has lasted over two hours already—how on teyvat could all those… eccentric personalities stand being in one room for so long? and what could possibly be of such urgency that all of them must convene?
the doors then swing open and your shoulders jump at the loud creaking noise. you quit your pacing and stand off to the side, head down and eyes on the ground as pierro is the first to exit. a couple of the other harbingers file out as well bringing a solemn air with them, but you don’t recognize any of their footsteps or the shrill giggle that echoes down the hall.
but you do recognize that dottore’s footsteps were not amongst them, so you stay put, staring at your feet.
“waiting for the doctor?” says a familiar voice.
you look up to find bright blue eyes gleaming at you. tartaglia is the only other harbinger that ever greets you kindly and it still doesn’t make sense to you how the young man found himself among those ranks. dottore has warned you several times that tartaglia is not as he seems, but it’s hard to think otherwise when he smiles so warmly in this land of endless winter.
you greet him as well. “there’s something i need to report to him.”
Keep reading
genshin christmas icons i quickly edited for my server with no regard for aesthetic
go nuts
— "𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪?" ♥
:feat~ childe, dottore, scaramouche x gn!reader:
⤷ established relationship, modern!au ⤷ violence, overprotective ...comfort(?)
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis
art by @/code_tesseract on twitter! ✩
“Why do you refuse? Tell me.”
CHILDE’s heart drops when he sees you.
It’s only a small bruise below your eye, but he can already feel his blood boiling as he dashes over to you, embracing you in a tight hug until you manage: “Taglia- can’t breathe…”
“Tell me. Who did this to you?” He pulls back hesitantly at your words, albeit only slightly. You’re still pressed up against him, warm figure in his arms.
“Taglia, it’s nothing you need to concern yourself over.” Despite his questioning, you merely glance away, ignoring his pleas with a dismissive response each time. It’s clear that you don’t want to get him involved, but he does, because just seeing how you’ve been hurt, no matter how lightly, makes him pissed.
But he can tell, begrudgingly, that you don’t need his help, or rather, don’t want it. So he’ll respect your wishes, at least while he’s in your presence. With a long sigh, he loosely shrugs his shoulders, giving you one more tight hug before asking if you want anything - ice, bandages, food, whatever. Of course you insist you’re fine, because that’s the kind of person you are… and while it’s slightly problematic at times, but being stubborn is an endearing trait of yours - after all, if you always showed no resistance, how boring would that be?
So as soon as you turn in for the night, claiming that you’re tired, he just smiles and nods along, a plan already in mind.
You said you were out with friends.
When he called you at 10:04 pm, you responded.
There was background noise.
There was someone’s voice, telling you to get off your phone.
Oh, now he knows who it was.
And that someone will surely not live to see tomorrow. ♥
DOTTORE seems indifferent at first, not bothering to spare you a glance up from his countless research papers.
Then there’s a flash of red in the corner of vision, and that’s when he whips his head up, piercing red gaze immediately landing on your figure. It’s not much, just a small amount of bleeding, but his mind already races. He’s a peculiar boyfriend, to say the least, and his personality is one that changes constantly, so much so that you’re not sure if you have one lover or thirty. For the time being, he’ll tend to your wound, but archons know he’s already calculating his plans on how to make the one who did this regret it.
“Ouch… Dottore, the bandage is too tight.” You wince from where you’re sitting on his office chair, arm held up so he can see. The male seems to jolt, glancing up at you while his enraged expression melts, just the slightest. He doesn’t apologize, but does redo the bandages, looser this time, before looking back up at you for your approval.
“...Darling. Who did this to you?”
His tone seems gentle enough, like he’s trying not to scare you. But his gaze is clear, the way his crimson eyes are cold and how his features are twisted furiously.
“Dottore, I’m fine.” And just like that, you withdraw your hand, your warmth, and hurriedly move to your room.
…What?
You’re not dismissive like that.
You always tell him everything. Because he can solve everything.
Yet, now you’re keeping secrets from him?
It’s all their fault. Whoever they are.
"So if I kill them, won’t that resolve everything?" ♥
SCARAMOUCHE merely scowls, glancing at you, brows furrowed.
“What happened to you?” His voice is mixed into a scoff as he stares at you up and down, expression only worsening, for some inexplicable reason. He’s leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, looking rather… well, there’s only some slight bruising on you, but his eyes hold so much… distaste.
“It’s nothing.” You push aside the male, heading towards your room. Scaramouche doesn’t follow after you, only intensifying his glare as he watches you shut the door without another word, letting out a little ‘tch’.
But as soon as you’ve disappeared behind the door, the wooden counter he’s holding onto splinters under his choking grip, small shards crumbling onto the floor. Crimson blood drips from his fingers, the fragments digging into his sin, but all he can hear is the overpowering rush of his own rage.
Nothing? You think this is nothing?
You are his, and everyone knows that.
He has made it clear.
Yet, someone dares do this to you?
Perhaps it's an act to save face, an act to protect his pride, but more so, it’s an action to hurt the one who dared to hurt you, whether you want him involved or not.
The next words that come out of his mouth are fractured whispers, violet gaze focusing on the red streaming from his hand.
“You won’t have to worry, love. I already know you too well.”
“You want me to take care of this, right? To get rid of the imbecile who dared to lay a hand on you?”
“Haha, very well. It seems that tonight will be one of bloodshed.” ♥
(a/n) ...was originally going to add pantalone to this too... but then gave up. please send help
— 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆, 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆…♡
໒꒱ || :feat~ yandere!childe, dottore, scaramouche x gn!reader:
໒꒱ || cw: low and behold, jealousy, possessive + obsessive (who would’ve thought), oops he’s yandere mb, established relationship, dottore... chokes you? you’re his subordinate + dr*gging (scara) dont ask me what im doing i dont know either
⤷ “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you won’t forget that.”
“Where were you yesterday night?”
CHILDE’s empty gaze lands on you and doesn’t let you leave it’s sight as soon as you walk through the door. You sense an air of displeasure surrounding your boyfriend as he leans back on the wall, arms crossed over his chest with his eyes fixtated on you. You haven’t done anything wrong, so why do you feel like a deer caught in headlights?
“I just went out with some friends…?” You aren’t sure of the source of his inexplicable anger, but you decide it’d be best not to trigger it.
“They treated me to some street food, and that was it, really…” It’s hard to elaborate further with the harbinger keeping completely silent, and his gaze feels like it’s piercing you.
He echoes a word that seems to have sparked his interest. “‘They?’” “Uhm- you know, Xingqiu, Chongyun, and Xiangling…”
Unconsciously, you let a brief smile cross your face at the mention of your good friends’ names, remembering the lively bustle of Liyue Harbor and the many laughs shared between the four of you.
It’s a sight that doesn’t escape Childe’s keen eye. Instantly, he’s three steps closer, with your chin raised in his gloved hand. “Wipe that smile off of your face, goddamnit.” He speaks through gritted teeth, though his harsh voice is obscured by the way his words come out as a soft hiss. His brows are furrowed, eyes flashing with annoyance as he pauses and takes in a deep breath.
“Wh…what’s with you? Don’t do those things so suddenly!” You yelp, attempting to move away only for your back to hit the wall.
The male only lets out a breathy laugh. “Ah, honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing either…” He’s much more reserved now, but you know him well enough to be aware of how he’s silently seething under the surface. “Archons, you’re a troublesome thing, aren’t you? To think affection would do such a thing to me… hah, what a thrill!” He glances up long enough for you to catch his twisted expression, eyes blown and a smile spreading across his face. “Jealousy, hm? Hahaha, oh how the troops would ridicule me if they knew!” He stops to take in a breath, his chest heaving up and down erratically. What a fool you’ve made me, darling.”
“Wh-What?” He’s moving closer, too close, his hot breath fanning your face.
“Look at me, you’ve made me a pliable idiot under your touch, haven’t you? Don’t even think about leaving now.”
“You don’t have to worry, all I’ll do is just make sure that pretty little head if yours doesn’t think about anything except me only.” ♡
“A friend, you say?”
DOTTORE has a quizzical look about him, as it’s rather odd how much amusement his crimson eyes hold. “Hmm, is that so?”
“Yes…?” You don’t know what has come over your boyfriend at the moment, but he ponders your words as if they hold a different meaning - which, they don’t. Something about the way he stares at you makes you feel like the guilty party… but you haven’t done anything wrong, have you?
“I need a name.” He whips out a small notebook out of seemingly nowhere, a pen also appearing in his hand.
“Oh, uhm-“ You momentarily pause, hesitant as you pictured the familiar fox-eared forest ranger. “He’s not exactly fond of the Fatui…”
The male lets out a hum, smile only spreading wider. “All the better. Explain him. Thoroughly.”
You frown. “Why are you so fixated on-“
You swallow your words as they’re interrupted by a sound that’s more akin to a bark than a laugh. “Ahhh, I knew giving you my hand would be beneficial, just look how delightfully humorous you are!” He strides closer, one step, then another, effortlessly closing the space between the two of you. You can feel his red gaze through where it’s obstructed from the mask he always dons, and you have a feeling that his eyes are trained toward your every move. “Do you truly mean to say that I am not to ask of this ‘friend’ of yours?”
“It shouldn’t be of your concern…”
“Oh, but it is.” Dottore does what looks like a shrug, an action you certainly wouldn’t put past him. “Do I not have the right to monitor my partner’s actions? Who knows,” He steps even closer, his arms positioned in either side of you. “What kind of things you might be doing with this ‘friend’ of yours?”
“Dottore, what you’re implying right now is-!”
“My name sounds good in your mouth. You should say it more often.” Even in such a situation, he won’t stop his teasing mannerisms. “Ah, but perhaps you say his name much more often, don’t you?”
The words escape your mouth before you can halt them: “Tighnari isn’t!-“
“Tighnari, you said?” Dottore lets out a low chuckle, his voice giving way to his definite ecstasy. “Ah, so that’s his name? I’ll be sure to remember it. Hm, who knows, perhaps he’d make a wonderful subject of mine?”
“Why- Why are you doing this??”
“Isn’t it obvious, darling?” He’s shifted closer once more, and the very air you breathe feels suffocating. “I desire for you, and only you. Ahhhahah, you have me wrapped around your finger, don't you? Carve up my heart for all it matters, just be mine.” His fingers find his way around your throat, and it’s even harder to inhale than before. Dizzying black spots begin to grow larger, casting the edges of your vision into to darkness. “But in order for to us to live happily, together, I’ll have to make sure of things first… and first on the list…” A low growl makes its way out of his throat. “I’ll just need to make sure there won’t be any lasting regrets for you, hm? Just a few dead here and there, who’s really going to notice? After all…”
“I can’t have you running from my grasp, can I?” ♡
“Why didn’t you tell me that you’d be going out tonight?”
SCARAMOUCHE’s scornful glare is enough to make you cower where you stand in front of the door to his private quarters. His significantly short stature made it rather difficult for him to tower over you, but the deathly aura that surrounded the male was already more than enough.
“My apologies, sir. I was not aware that it was mandatory to inform you of my departure.” You give him a swift bow, casting your eyes to the floor. Several possibilities ran through your head. Perhaps he’d just settle for a rather harsh scolding, or maybe a social probation. Either way, a small part of you stirred in annoyance at your superior’s words. Nowhere in the trainee handbook had such a rule been written! You had heard the not quite so savory rumors of the 6th Harbinger numerous times before, and while they had never really proved to be a significant problem, the reason they had even surfaced in the first place was beginning to dawn on you.
“Where?” He raises his hand, a sign to lift your head. He’s being rather gracious today…? Perhaps he had been in a good mood - that is, until you soured it.
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“Where did you go?” There’s clear frustration in his tone for having to repeat himself.
“To the nearest marketplace. The soldiers in the east quadrant needed more supplies.”
“And you complied? You let them just push you around like that?
“Respectfully, sir, if I hadn’t, they would’ve done the same and pestered someone else. There was no task assigned to us-”
“Us?”
“I and another lieutenant, sir. He agreed to help me because-”
“Did I grant you the right to go with that scum?” It startles you, how much venom lies in his words. Posture stiffening, you manage to glance up, only to meet his burning violet gaze.
“Sir, I don’t underst-”
“Of course you don’t understand.” Something seems to suddenly come over the harbinger as he doubles over in his signature maniacal laughter. “You never understand, do you??”
You take a step back, only for your heel to hit the wall behind you. “Lord Scaramouche…?” For every quickened breath you take, he sways an inch closer.
“I’ve been sending you so many signs, doing nearly everything in my power to just make it so my affection would get through to that dense head of yours, but no, you still remain ignorant, ignorant for how much I’m willing to do for you! Anything and everything, no matter where and what. If it means words of praise from your mouth and your warmth touch, then any task is worth fulfilling.” The malice in his eyes dims slightly as he closes them, smiling at you brightly as he slides his hand into yours. His hand is cool, his skin smooth and unblemished, yet rigidly unnatural, the sharp angles of his joints proof of the way he was crafted into this world. A being… incapable of love…? No, the heartless being in front of you was certainly capable, and far too deeply immersed in the feeling. His lips brush against yours, yet darken dangerously when you shift your head away as an act of avoidance.
“Don’t be like that, not after all the trouble I’ve went through, just to ensure that you’ll finally be in my arms…” There’s a flash of light, a tendril of purple lightning, and all of a sudden, your limbs feel weak. You don’t know when you’ve collapsed onto the floor, or when you’ve been nestled into Lord Scaramouche’s arms, but you’re able to make out his words through the fog in your mind.
“Ah? It seems that the solution I slipped into your dinner proved to be quite potent. It’s a shame you won’t be seeing more of it, but alas, I can’t possibly keep you here any longer. Not when there are countless of those dogs salivating over the thought of you, those wretched vermin…” Sensation in your fingers, his lips against the back of your hand as he kisses it gently.
“There won’t be any need to worry anymore, darling. I’ll be all that you need.” ♡
(a/n) for you guys who were hoping for something soft n fluffy, sorry, please take this offering as an apology.
“Ah, I hate this feeling, whenever you hang out with them it’s just…”
“Are you… jealous?”
“What?? No, no way!! Don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”
“Don’t worry love, you are my one and only beloved, so please don’t worry about me leaving you, because rest assured, it will never happen.”
“I…😭🥹🥺🥺”
smoochy smooch the end !!
help i feel like the quality of my fanfic is just slowly degrading over time have i peaked is it just downhill from here am i growing to become old and wrinkled 😞
(oh… it’s been a while hasn’t it…. a month of unexcused absence… i was trying to post this early but the yandere theme made me reach a stalemate FUCKK IM SORRY ILL WRITE MORE PSPSPS IM SORRY FOR NEGLECTING ALL OF YOU WAAAH)
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123
cg!harbingers
feat pantalone, dottore, childe (may be ooc)
genre fluff
notes if u aren’t already, please educate yourself about age regression before sending hate towards me or thinking this is sexual, this is NOT sexual
pantalone
will buy you literally anything
you like that sippy cup? you’ll find it on your bed not long after
you like that stuffie? he already bought it
also tends to buy you stuff to entertain yourself, mainly due to the fact that sadly he’s often very busy and he doesn’t want his little one to be bored/sad
likes to be called ‘papa’, he doesn’t know why it just makes him happy internally
calls you little one or baby/boy/girl
will try his hardest to be home as much as possible so he can be there to help when you age regress and to give you his undivided attention <3
dottore
high key very curios about your regression
obviously he will be your caregiver but if you allow him, he wants to research what makes you regress/why you regress and such
whenever he’s not there to keep you company, one of his clones will look after you
surprisingly soft around you when you regress
he likes being called papa as well
will call you any nickname in the book, practically calls you all the nicknames there are when you’re in little space
tries to keep you out of his fatui business as much as possible
overall, he cares a lot about you and he tries his best to look after you and attend to your needs+wants <3
childe
best caregiver 101
he is also filthy rich, so prepare to be spoiled with gifts galore
whenever he can’t spend time with you, he usually asks zhongli if he can look after you
dw zhongli won’t judge you for being a little, he’s surprisingly pretty good with age regressors
childe likes being called daddy, makes him feel all giddy inside
because he’s a big brother, he’s just really good with you no matter what age you regress to and wether you’re non verbal or verbal
enjoys napping with you when he has the chance to <3
SO I MADE PLAYLISTS FOR SOME OF THE GENSHIN BOYS
Freminet:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0cHgKG7N3vDbnx3eQhcrlw?si=29bb9a8bb9de46dd
Lyney:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/42K7AtKAV0lXnxuPMsVtft?si=aff0477fb2da431c
Bennett:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5k0LGKHMq1mWIDepKr4noD?si=1f4a73f897c0430d
Dottore:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7cwHwQ3w8KP7RjVdnxBUqn?si=73adca830fed47f4
I update these fairly often. Also these aren't "accurate" per se, they're just songs I associate with the characters. Hopefully you enjoy them!
"Would You Still Love Me"
"If I was a worm?"
Ft. Dottore, Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche
Dottore:
"Of all the stupid things you could ask me..."
Stares judgementally at you, expecting you to revoke the question
Pinches the bridge if his nose and sighs when you don't
His scowl crumbles a little when you seem upset
"So you wouldn't love me if I suddenly turned into a worm."
Comes to the sudden realisation that if you're upset with him, you'll be less compliant...for science
C'mon, he's not gonna admit he's in it for the cuddles, not even in his head
Brings you a set of blueprints and a glass enclosure
"This is where you'd stay if you were a worm. I have three different design plans, so choose wisely because that's how your worm home will look for the rest of your life. You'll have a little worm car after four months if I haven't found a cure, however unlikely that is."
He will tell you all of his plans on what he'll do if you become a worm and you can't stop him because you started it
Your hypothetical worm situation is now fully prepared for, whether you like it or not
Wouldn't recommend because the diet he has planned for worm you doesn't look very appetising
Kazuha:
"You'd travel on my shoulder on in my pocket so I can share poetry with you."
Ruffles your hair and pinches your cheeks
If you swat him away he'll insist he was only checking if you were becoming a worm
Carries on like it was nothing after that
If you ask again he'll remind you that he'll love you regardless of what form you take
This does, unfortunately, spark some odd terms of endearment
You are now his "precious worm", "beloved wormy", "sweet wriggly", "fleshy straw", etc
They get progressively worse
But he swears it's all affectionate
"I'd love you if you became a leaf."
"That wasn't the question-"
"Every leaf has it's own tune when you play it like a flute, I wonder what yours would be."
Xiao:
Stares at you for a good while
"Why would you ever be a worm?"
You don't need to elaborate, because he'll eventually sigh and give in, intertwining his fingers with yours as he assures you he would
Still confused on why you'd be a worm though
But rest assured you would be the safest worm in the whole of Teyvat because nothing can touch you so long as Xiao is taking care of you
You're his little wormy, and he'll carry you in his palm when he's high up so you can have a nice view
Always worried he might misplace you or accidentally step on you
You've given him intrusive thoughts and now he's worried about a hypothetical that may never happen
Scaramouche:
"Would you love me if you were a worm though?"
"Scara what-"
"How do we know your worm brain has the capacity to comprehend that you're in a committed relationship with me? There's no telling whether you'll find some new worm lover who can give you that wormy connection I can't."
He's going off about how a worm couldn't possibly have any lingering feelings for a person
Mildly offended at the implication you might expect him to become a worm for you to live your worm lives together
"Me? A worm? How could you even entertain such a thought?"
You didn't, he drew his own conclusions and started overthinking
This is clearly your way of hinting that you don't feel loved enough to trust him (it's not, he is once again overthinking)
It has now been flipped on you to explain to him that you'd love him even if he became a worm because you'd adore him whether or not he loved you back
Taglist: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @lovers-on-the-eiffel @cxlrosii @miss-fantazmagoria @lychme @o91wo @lemonswriting @eowinthetraveller @ajaxstar
Take A Hint
Please just notice their advances
Ft. Diluc, Dottore, Itto, Zhongli
Diluc:
It's not you, it's him
Truly, he could not be any more vague
Why? You might ask?
Simply put, he's trying his best to romance you without letting you know it's him who's romancing you
Something something anxious you'll reject him something
So yeah, flowers, subtle gifts in the form of things you happen to need, everything is handed to you on a silver platter of convenience
And the sender himself is nowhere to be found or even heard of
Throw in how he's not exactly known for being amorous, as popular as he is, how could you possibly have suspected it was from him?
Of course you'd ask around, sparking a whole new chain of talk about your mysterious admirer
And lots of unwanted advice from the well-meaning citizens of Mond
"You should try asking around at the Angel's Share. Master Diluc always seems to know a little about everything, maybe he has something for ya."
Having no other leads, you went ahead with it
As with every other evening, the place was packed, drunkards exchanging tales over their liquor
There was nothing of value to be gotten from them, so you made a beeline for the redhead behind the counter
"Good evening, what can I get for you this time?"
"You wouldn't happen to have information, would you? On umm, the person who's been sending me all these presents."
He stiffens up, though not enough to be distinctly noticeable
He was going to say no, continue to lay low for a bit more, but when you looked at him so expectantly, it was hard for him to turn you down
It was even worse when you pressed further, prying for details to push your luck
Still, he caved and answered, fumbling as he did, because there was only so vague he could be the more you questioned
"You seem to know this person really well, it's almost like- Wait, Diluc, are you??"
In your excitement, you had gotten up, kneeling on the barstool and leaning across the counter to come face to face with him
"I've thought of something else you can get me, bartender~"
"Y-yes, and...what might that be?"
"You<3"
_____
"Just like that?" Kaeya confirmed, throwing his head back and laughing as he turned to his brother. "Yeah, just like that," you echoed, smiling at your lover who glowered at the blue haired captain. Diluc sat himself between the two of you as he wrapped an arm around you. "I told you it'd be easier to just ask them," Kaeya quipped, only to be silenced with a glare. "I recall," Diluc said. "But it worked out fine all the same." And fine it was, as he pressed a kiss to your temple, content that he no longer had to fret over hiding from you.
Dottore:
For someone who's all about the enjoying the experimental process, even he was growing tired of the lack of results
Were his hints (link to past post) too difficult to notice even for you? Had he overestimated your abilities?
Perhaps that was the case, so he'd have no choice but to resort to a more tried and true method
But of course even then he'd twist it in his own way to suit himself
It's not like there was any point in conforming to a standard the complete opposite of his own lest you fall for anything short of who he truly was
So he approaches you under the guise of a personal experiment, a little something that had piqued his interest
"You can be my lover for a... how's a month sound?"
You choked on your drink
As if being approached by the harbinger you worked for during your lunch break wasn't nerve wracking enough, that was what he wanted to talk to you about?
Despite his offhanded demeanor, seeming to not care about whether you agreed to it or not, you had a feeling it would be in your best interests to go along with it
It's not like you weren't at least somewhat into him anyway
His smile from under the mask did seem very ominous to any sane person though
Perhaps you weren't entirely sane, because the doctor's low chuckle didn't send you running for the hills in spite of you having no idea what he was planning
But really, how hard could it be to play the part of Il Dottore's lover for a month?
The answer was not at all
The position came with a number of privilege you were sure you'd miss once you lost them
Free access to anything under Dottore's command? Almost the same level of authority?
Really, it was insane just how much you were getting out of something that stemmed from his curiosity
And it really had you wondering just how he could afford to spare you all this luxury without batting an eye
Your colleagues, while understandably jealous, had been surprisingly supportive as well, giggling in your ear about how soft the doctor seemed to be for you
But all you could think of was how it was all a lie
You had to keep reminding yourself how quickly it would be over, and that you'd soon return to your old post
Even in the doctor's presence, which was often, you were doing mental gymnastics to stay calm at his every doting gesture
How was it even possible for him to hold you so gently? You'd never know
His duality was such that he could snap at the Regrator in a tone you're sure was icy enough to make the Tsaritsa proud all while holding you in his lap with the warmest possible embrace
And every moment felt like it'd last forever
Could he freeze time? You sort of hoped he would experiment with that and inevitably extend the time you had with him
You, ever the fool, had gotten comfortable with the arrangement even when you'd repeatedly reminded yourself not to
Although one could say you were an even bigger fool for not realising how he set you up to fall for him
Did you really think he was capable of looking at anyone he didn't consider special to him with enough warmth to melt a room when you can't even see his eyes?
On the final day of your agreement, you were finally starting to worry about how you were supposed to go about your old job after all you'd experienced with Dottore
Could you even function without remembering how nice it was to have his reassuring hand on your back?
"Oh my, anyone would think you were upset by the thought of leaving me if you pulled that face."
"Lord Dottore! I didn't notice- I'm sorry I-"
"No, this has been...a very successful experiment, if I do conclude. It has definitely helped me to confirm something important, I was just thinking of how to reward you for your help."
"I'm honoured I was able to assist, my lord. I'd be happy to accept any gift you might grace me with."
He frowned a little, and you were worried you had misspoken
Well, technically, you had, because he was hoping you'd have gotten comfortable enough with him over the month to drop the formalities
"Any gift? Then it's decided. We'll just have to make this a permanent arrangement, wouldn't you agree, my dear? In which case I think it only fitting that...when we're alone like this, you should call me Zandik."
The last part was softer, like the utterance of his name was for no one but you (it was)
Dottore might have been the feared harbinger, but Zandik was your affectionate maniac, and yours alone
_____
"Zandik, I never really did get to ask...why did you choose me for that experiment anyway? It just all seems far too fortunate for everything to fall into place so easily," you asked. You hadn't expected him to grin - more to himself than anyone else. "Yes, very fortunate indeed, you must be quite the lucky one then, favoured by the goddess of love herself, no?" he chuckled. He wondered if you would ever figure out he schemed it all, or if you'd remain blissfully ignorant. Gingerly, he took off his mask and set it on your face. "Would you look at that, it suits you too," he mused. "So why don't we just take it, that we were bound to end up like this one way or another, my precious?"
Itto:
You'd think it's obvious since he's such an outspoken guy
But he's fairly prideful too, so chances are, he's gonna try get you to ask him out
Unfortunately for him, he very much does want to cut the chase and ask you out so he doesn't have to wait
It's really a dilemma, and it doesn't help that no one in the gang apart from Shinobu gives sound advice
Just ask you out? Yeah right, Shinobu, he's gonna go with what the other guys say and just make himself seem so cool you'll be dying to go out with him
So he hangs around you a lot, dragging you with him and talking about how the Arataki Gang is doing stupendously
And who's leading the gang? None other than him, of course!!
Surely you'll think he's awesome, right?
Of course, credit where credit's due, he does end up talking about Shinobu a lot, praising her and how well she helps manage things
In part, that's supposed to help you see how humble he is despite his awesomeness
Too bad it gave the impression that he liked Shinobu, leading to you trying to set them up
Did you kinda like Itto? Yeah, sure, what wasn't there to like about him?
But that was also why you thought you should put your own feelings aside and help him out
And Itto, the sweet dumbass, not knowing any better, went along with all your ideas thinking you just wanted to spend time with him
You were taking him shopping for stuff!! That seems like a date, right? He was counting as a date
Yes, you were trying to dress him up and "coincidentally" bump into Shinobu and abandon them to have dinner together, but Itto didn't know the second half of that
He was absolutely memorising every detail to tell the rest of the gang after about how it worked and you slyly tried to go on a date with him
He was planning up how to tell them already
And you were dressing him up too? Look at you, acting like you're already married, he's very head empty
My guy is so ready to call you out on it when you bump into Shinobu a little earlier than expected
"Oh, what are you two up to? No offence, y/n, it's just that Itto typically doesn't come around town without some sort of mayhem following."
"Hey, you know that's not true, people love me, I-"
Red alert: he was looking stupid in front of his crush
And when you were quick to defend him? Boy, he looked like he wanted to kiss you then and there
You thought you were salvaging his reputation, but really, it just made you look like you were taking his side unconditionally
At least that's how it seemed in the moment
"How about that, boss. You actually got them to fall for you hard enough to overlook your idiocy. Who'd have thought?"
"Well, of course no one can resist the one and Oni Arataki Itto, y/n included, right my bug?"
You couldn't even be offended at his awful petname for you because there was so much to process
Were you dating now? Was that how it went?
Honestly, you could roll with that, as funny of a way as it was to get together
You didn't even have the heart to tell him about the misunderstanding because he seemed so proud to show off to everyone how you finally got together
_____
The members of the Arataki Gang gathered around with gathered sakura blooms as they scattered the petals around to congratulate the two of you. For the most part, Itto was just recounting the tale from his perspective, which was pretty funny to hear since you knew how it all actually went down. Had you really looked at him with the love the ocean had for the moon? It was almost embarrassing to hear how he described you, the poetic brilliance so unlike his typical crude speech. Certainly, it was a simple as comparing you to fresh grass in the summer, but it was very him to do so. And you supposed that was the magnetic charm of his after all.
Zhongli:
He can't think of a time when he's ever been so desperate to reach out to someone and yet so hesitant
But that had to be all the more reason for him to keep his distance because imagine if he lost you once he'd gotten attached?
Absolute devastation
But a small part of him insists you're worth the risk
Sadly, not enough to convince him because what if one day you realise you're just wasting your time with him? If you didn't actually like him any more than as a dear friend?
So you end up in this awful push and pull, hot and cold situation where one day he's inviting you out, eager to spend time with you
And the next day he's nowhere to be found, uncontactable as though he was never a part of your life
It got tiring really fast, so you roped in Hu Tao, since as his boss, she probably had his schedule
That and Hu Tao very much seems to be aware of something you aren't (aka the fact that Zhongli is immortal)
She wants to fill you in so badly because she's pretty done with watching Zhongli pine and then act like he never did
Still, she respects his boundaries (mostly) so she just helps drag him out of hiding
And by that, I mean calling him to work for something really important so he'll rush over
So you can imagine how his eyes widened when he saw you waiting with the director
"Director...and y/n, did I miss something?"
He knew he was being played the moment he saw Hu Tao's close-eyed smile but it was too late to run
Even then, Hu Tao wasn't one to break character, so she sent the two of you on some errands for her
So off you go, wandering Liyue on tasks you're certain have no relevance to whatever Hu Tao actually needs
Part 1: Scouring mountains for qingxin
At some point, Zhongli decided it'd be so much easier to just boost you up with his geo structures and catching you when you jumped/slid back down
No, he's definitely not the geo archon he's just very proficient at using his vision, he assures you
With the way he talks about Liyue as you search for flowers, even you end up piecing it all together
"What's it like to no longer be worshipped?"
"It's definitely more peaceful."
He pauses and slowly turns towards you
"I seem to be slipping up a lot today. This is exactly why I can't be around you. Still, what were the chances you'd figure this out before picking up on my feelings for you?"
Look at him turning the tables on you, it was now your turn to be flustered
How dare he
With a gentle tenderness only the passage of time could train, he picked out one particular flower from the bunch and held it beside your cheek
"Would it be inappropriate for me to comment on how you put even the loveliest of flowers to shame? Or should I find an equally appealing piece of jade or cor lapis to match the shine of your eyes?"
"What's with this sudden flattery?"
"You do bring out the worst in me sometimes. Even centuries of solitude couldn't grant me the patience to wait for you to choose me."
_____
You'd returned to the funeral parlour with Zhongli, both of you hauling massive bouquets in your arms. "We've found the-" Zhongli began, only to be cut off by his boss chiding him. "Aiya, I gave you the perfect opportunity and you still have no game!"
"No, but I did-" He turned to you with pleading eyes, but it was a sight too funny to pass up on. You'd make it up to him later, of course. But for the time being, you'd let yourself be amused with his suffering as payback for ghosting you all those times.
Commissioned by @monstersealclubber
Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @missesclaus @cxlrosii @miss-fantazmagoria @astrequa @kokomist @lemonswriting @eowinthetraveller @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @ash-astrophel @moonbyunniee @greyrain23
HELIOTROPES
pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and cruel and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui, no other warnings
notes: i enjoyed writing this one ajfdhuaisdfuhs it was a bit of a character study for dottore, i love being able to get into his head like this
MIDWINTER
He was born without a mark. It’s not abnormal--statistically, half of the population would be born without a mark because you don’t receive your mark until your soulmate is born. Most receive theirs within the first five years of their life, if they weren’t born with one. Others are unlucky, and they have to wait up to ten.
Dottore never received his.
He waited years. When he was five years old, and other kids his age were starting to see the red thread that connected them with their soulmate, he was still waiting on his mark. When he was ten years old, and other kids his age were starting to feel their soulmate's emotions, he was still waiting on his mark. When he was fifteen years old, and other kids his age were finally seeing random words scrawled on their forearms reflecting their soulmate’s thoughts, he was still waiting on his mark.
When he was younger, he tried to convince himself it didn’t matter--that one day, his mark would show up, just like how it did for everyone else. But it was hard to convince himself of that when everyday he was reminded that he didn’t have one. He was reminded by nasty kids who would push him to the ground and laugh at him, he was reminded by equally nasty adults who whispered that only the soulless and the damned didn’t receive their soulmarks, and he was reminded by his parents who stripped him down to search him for his mark everyday so they could prove their son wasn’t cursed.
Dottore accepted that he did not have a soulmate. He would even go so far as to say he embraced it. It took him a long time to reach that mentality, years of coming to terms with it, but he firmly believed that he was better off. Having a soulmate was a mortal weakness that he was freed of--he had seen it be the downfall of many men before and he refused to meet the same fate.
Without a soulmate, he could focus on more important things. He could devote his time and energy to his research, further the Fatui in their rebellion against Celestia, and he could do it all without the weakness that all of humanity had.
He was stronger without a soulmate. It proved he was above mankind, beyond the limits that humans were confined to. He was better without a soulmate.
A harsh gust of wind battered the window of his room, ice webbing at the bottom of the glass, creeping up the sides. Dottore sighed as he lifted his hand to his face, pulling off the mask that hid him from the rest of the world.
He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about this again. His gaze drew to the mirror on the opposite side of the room, eyes tracing the rough, jagged skin across the top of his face--a product of the demonization cast over him by the people of his old village. Dottore’s lips twisted into a deep frown as he forced himself to look away, it had been a long time since he had even had a passing thought of it, much less dwelling on it as he was now.
He turned away from the mirror over to the candle resting at his nightstand--dimly lighting up the dark, spacious room. Shadows reflected eerily across the room from the trees swaying in the wind outside to the small flame dancing at his bedside. A blizzard rattled the palace around him, he wondered if it was the doing of the Tsaritsa or if it was just a natural storm.
Dottore hated the winter.
He always had. It had nothing to do with the bone-chilling weather and frequent storms. He barely could even feel the cold anymore, and he thought storms might be better for him because he could coop himself up in his lab without having to worry about the Jester disturbing his research and telling him to go on some mission. He had hated the winter even before he had left Sumeru for Snezhnaya, where the temperatures were five times as warm and the earth of the forest started to dry from a lack of rain.
Winter had always been the unluckiest time of year for him--it was when he was originally chased from the village, it was when he was cast out from the Akademiya. Winter was when he had faced some of the biggest failures of his life regarding his research into Archon residue. Winter was when the first segment he had created was destroyed. Winter was when he was dealt a fatal blow that had made him abandon his body for an artificial one.
Dottore despised the winter.
He sat on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, that was the only explanation for why his mind was wandering to such a topic. He had been able to free himself of the shackles that many mortals were restricted by--aging, natural death, even unnatural death could be avoided, for the most part, but he still found himself chained by fatigue and hunger. He could suppress it longer than the average person but it never failed to limit him.
He supposed that he should rest. Tomorrow there was to be a meeting with all of the Harbingers--discussion on what was to be done about the spots of the late 9th and 11th, who had met their end on a failed mission in Natlan earlier in the month. With the Captain finally returning with their bodies, it would be time to put them to rest and figure out how to move forward. He could already hear the bickering of Sandrone and Scaramouche, Arlecchino’s snide comments that just set the other two off even more.
Dottore thought that the whole situation was ridiculous. There had been no need to send two of the newest Harbingers down to Natlan when they all knew very well that Natlan was getting more and more aggressive to the Fatui within their borders. They had been sent on a diplomatic mission, to observe, but the Pyro Archon claimed that they had made an attempt on her life. A blatant lie, but the only ones left alive to corroborate the story were the Pyro Archon’s sycophants.
It was meant to be a challenge. The Pyro Archon was challenging the Tsaritsa to do something about her butchering two of her most loyal followers, she was hoping for a war… but Snezhnaya could not afford a war right now. Their economy was failing and the dead of winter was nigh, when all crops would start dying and animals would freeze mid-trot. Famine would begin to wrap its chilly fingers around the throats of the citizens of Snezhnaya, the bitter cold would seep into the warmest homes and it was not the time for the Fatui to war with Teyvat’s strongest military. They were already struggling politically with the old-blood aristocracy breathing down their necks and with the support of the masses, there wasn’t much that the Fatui could do to press back until they were in a better position, even with the support of the Tsaritsa herself.
Dottore pinched the bridge of his nose, the meeting was hours from beginning and he could already feel the incoming headache. He had no interest in Snezhnayan politics, he had no interest in what was to be done about the empty seats amongst the Harbingers. All he wanted to do was continue his research--the Delta segment would be returning from Sumeru at some point tomorrow to give him an update on the Irminsul project and his input was needed before Delta or any of the other older segments took any further steps.
He let out a heavy breath as he rose back to his feet, intent on changing out of his clothes and into something more comfortable before he finally laid down to rest for the night. As he rose, he felt something soft, feather-light even, brushing against his thumb. Without thinking, he reached for a handkerchief folded tidily on the edge of his bedside dresser.
He wiped off his hands without even bothering to look, figuring that it was just the remnants of the material he was working with down in his lab but as he crossed the room to his wardrobe, that strange, weightless feeling against his thumb remained.
Dottore’s eyes finally drew down to his right hand, curiosity getting the best of him, as always. And he stared, for a second and then two before a laugh bubbled in his chest, begging to be released.
Not for the first time, he thought that the gods had a sick and twisted sense of humor because wrapped neatly around his thumb was that thin, red thread that supposedly tied him to his soulmate, over four hundred and fifty years late.
He thought it was strange how everything around him moved on as normal as if his whole world hadn’t been shattered in a matter of five seconds the night before. He wasn’t able to sleep after noticing the thread and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to look for the soulmark that was undoubtedly branded somewhere on his body.
He felt weak. Mortal, again. He hated it.
“Then we wait,” Sandrone said dryly, her sharp voice drawing Dottore back into the conversation. His eyes left the red thread for the first time since he arrived at the meeting, flickering up to where the woman was resting in a chair, a large automaton standing behind her. “Why give a seat to someone unworthy? We’ll wait until two have proven their strength and they can-”
“And how long will that take?” Scaramouche’s voice was cold and grating as he interrupted Sandrone and Dottore’s lips thinned, realizing the inevitable argument between the Sixth and the Seventh was about to begin.
“However long it takes,” Sandrone responded, voice little over a hiss, blue eyes flinty.
“Ah, yes, yet another a bright idea from the Seventh. Let’s just leave the spots empty when enemies are on our doorstep, show even more weakness,” Scaramouche scoffed, not even bothering to hide the way he rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat.
“If you have a better idea, Balladeer, please, speak up with it,” Sandrone replied. “I’d love to…”
The thread was vibrating.
Dottore’s gaze flickered down beneath his mask to where his hands were resting on the ebony table, tuning out the conversation around him as he focused on the red string. He could barely feel it, much less see the little vibrations, but he was hyper-focused on it now. It was uneven thrums, as if someone was flicking the thread over and over again--they were getting faster, more impatient, and Dottore couldn’t help but think back to his childhood, when he was five years old and would watch other kids his age laying in the grass snapping their string incessantly, waiting for a responding snap from their soulmate.
His eyes flickered to the wide windows on the far side of the room, the blizzard still raged outside but he could see the sun rising in the distance.
So, you’re finally awake, he thought to himself, gaze drawing back to his thumb as the thrums got more and more insistent. A child. His soulmate was a child right now--excited at waking up to the appearance of the thread, hoping that their soulmate was just as excited as they were. Dottore had, for a long time, believed that his heart had gone cold and dead and he did not like the ache he felt in his empty chest.
A weakness. Just like that, he was brought down to the level of man.
Soulmates were blinding, they caused people to act with their heart and not their head. Dottore prided himself on being a man that removed his heart from decision making. He put nothing above furthering his research--no morals, no virtues, no principles came before his success and he could not allow this to change anything.
He had gone this long without a soulmate, he didn’t need one now.
But he couldn’t tear his eyes off the vibrating thread no matter how hard he tried. He could hear the conversation continuing around him but it sounded like a distant buzz--nothing could break his concentration on the thread, not even himself, and before he knew what he was doing, he was lifting his pointer finger and flicking it down, right on the string.
He inhaled as discreetly as he could once he realized what he had done, straightening in his seat. The vibrations from the opposite end had stopped instantly, and then all at once: one, two, three, four flicks.
Excitement, but all Dottore could feel was dread sinking in his stomach.
He could feel a pair of eyes on him. Dottore forced his gaze up to where the Tenth was sitting across from him, green eyes trained on his hand. Dottore’s lips flattened. Did he know? How would he know? But even with the mask adorning his face, the Tenth must have felt Dottore’s livid glare, looking up with a sheepish smile as he motioned to his own hand, his pointer finger, as if he was trying to show Dottore what he was looking at.
Dottore’s ring.
Of course, Dottore thought to himself dryly. He should have expected nothing less from the avaricious man.
Brighella had been brought in by Arlecchino--the Knave had spoken highly of the man’s intelligence and fighting ability, but so far all Dottore had seen from the Tenth Harbinger was a greed for wealth and alcohol. Dottore thought the man was more deserving of the title Jester than Pierro was, because all he was good for was his unintentional drunken entertainment during events.
Dottore let his gaze drop back to his hands, where the vibrating had finally stopped--seemingly pleased with finally getting a response from him--and Dottore couldn’t push away the emotions clawing at him from every angle.
He hated it.
He was good at compartmentalizing all of his feelings, pushing away all of the unwelcome ones and storing them in little corners until they finally dissipated but he couldn’t this time. They were too intense and Dottore felt overwhelmed. It had barely been half a day and he was already rattled by the new circumstances--rattled enough that he was struggling to keep himself composed internally.
Anxiety and dread were paramount, yes, but there was also pity.
The people of his old village had convinced him that he was cursed but he knew now that he was not the cursed one--it was the one that shared a mark with him instead.
Delta had arrived. Dottore could feel him approaching the palace, battling his way through the blizzard. He was not alone, he could feel another presence at his side--another segment--and he had a feeling he knew exactly which one it was and he was not pleased.
His movements were sharp as he put away the materials that he was using, annoyed at Delta and his inability to say no to the younger segments. For as stubborn and prideful the older segment was, all it took was a few whines from the Iota or Kappa segment and he was rolling over doing whatever they asked.
Dottore did not know how having a soulmate would affect the segments. He just knew it would be a distraction that they could not afford.
Would they have a mark? Dottore didn’t even know if he had a mark. He had yet to step in front of a mirror and look--it would make it too real, as if the damning thread wasn’t real enough.
Would they be able to see the thread? Would they have their own? Dottore hoped not. He did not want them to know--not yet, at least.
Dottore exhaled, safely storing the final vial in a cabinet too high for the Iota segment to reach and knock down just as the door to his lab was flung open harshly, shaking the cabinets closest to the door. He raised his eyebrows, turning on his heel to face the two arrivals.
Both segments were bundled in layers, cloaks drenched with water and furred hoods littered with snowflakes. The Delta segment was frowning, eyeing the room suspiciously, and the Iota segment was bouncing at his side, head whipping back and forth as he looked around the room--his first time in Dottore’s personal lab.
Something that Dottore had tried to keep on purpose. The last segment he wanted in his lab was the Iota segment--he was the clumsiest segment, one of the two segments with absolutely no sense of self-control, letting his curiosity get the best of him even in the worst situations. He was created in the mindset of his ten year old self, right after he had been cast out from his village. Dottore had thought that he could use Iota to see the Aranara of Vanarana but evidently, Iota no longer had that childlike innocence that allowed children to see the Aranara… which Dottore should have expected considering the circumstances after which he was created.
“You’re late,” Dottore said dryly, wiping his hands with a towel as he stepped out from behind the lab table he was working at.
“Yes,” Delta responded, voice just as dry. “There’s a bit of a blizzard outside, if you didn’t notice.”
Dottore raised his eyebrows at the snark and Delta, the most quarrelsome of the segments--except maybe Theta--only raised his eyebrows right back. Dottore’s eyes narrowed, annoyance worming its way onto his expression at the blatant disrespect. He had half a mind to remind him what exactly happened to the last segment that pushed him too far but instead, he was forced to move forward, right hand curling around Iota’s wrist just as the boy reached for some of Dottore’s notes.
“Do not start,” Dottore said sharply--perhaps he should have watched his tone, Iota was always the most sensitive when it came to tone and the last thing he wanted to deal with was a hysterical child.
… but Iota didn’t react to his tone. Instead, his eyes were wide and wondrous as he stared at Dottore’s hand. His right hand. Specifically, his right thumb.
Dottore’s stomach dropped, he released Iota’s wrist in an instant, stepping away, but Iota was persistent, darting forward to grab Dottore’s wrist now, reaching to grab the red string but his hand went right through it.
“What is that?” Delta asked, voice quiet and sharp.
So they could see his thread, but Dottore could safely assume that they did not have their own.
“Is it real?” Iota was still trying to grab the string--undoubtedly to tug at it just to feel the responding tug from their soulmate, just as he had felt from the opposite end this morning.
“It is real,” Dottore wasn’t even sure if he believed the words himself but logically, he had no reason to think otherwise. “It appeared last night.”
The reaction was almost instantaneous--Delta’s eyes shot open and Iota was wailing, clutching at Dottore’s waist, letting out incoherent babbles of how he knew that they had a soulmate, and how he knew that they weren’t damned or soulless, and how Kappa and Gamma would be-
“Do not tell them,” Dottore said sharply and Iota sobered up immediately, bottom lip wobbly and red eyes teary as he peered up at Dottore, questioning. “This is to stay between us for now, do you understand?”
“But Kappa-” Iota sniffled, confused, “and the others, they’ll be-”
“Do you understand?” Dottore asked again, gaze heavy as he waited for a response from both of his segments. “We do not need any new distractions, we’re finally making progress on our projects.”
Iota looked as if he had been physically slapped, brows knit together and biting his bottom lip as he looked between Delta and Dottore, as if expecting Delta to argue with Dottore. Dottore kept his expression steady, challenging, waiting for Delta to say something. Delta was argumentative but unlike Theta, he was not stupid. He knew when to pick fights and when to back off.
Delta was searching Dottore’s face for something, and Dottore made sure to keep his face blank. “You really don’t care?” Delta finally asked.
Dottore didn’t respond, partially because even as Delta asked the question, there was another soft tug at the red thread wrapped around his thumb. He forced himself not to look down at it, ignoring it this time. He did not care, and even if he did, he would force himself not to, just like he did a million times before when he forced himself to not care that he didn’t have a soulmate.
It was better for him, and it was better for the child on the opposite end of the string--who would grow up expecting their perfect match and be met with him.
“You were called back to report on the Irminsul project,” Dottore, a master of deflection, changed the subject rather than responding. Delta scoffed. “So, sit down and report. Enough of this nonsense. This is exactly why the other segments will not know.”
The anxiety, and the dread, and the pity was gone. It was replaced by anger.
Dottore was sick and tired of the gods fucking around with him.
Dottore stood in front of the mirror, lips thin and mask removed as he considered searching for the soulmark that was bound to be branded somewhere on his skin. It had been a long, long time since he had last searched his body for one. He had stopped after he had been cast out from the Akademiya--having given up on acceptance of any kind, be it from strangers or finally receiving his soulmate. He didn’t even want to look now but curiosity had always been his fatal flaw.
What did it look like? Where was it placed? His body was artificial, would there even be a soulmark?
Slowly and meticulously, he removed his shirt, scanning his torso and arms for any sign of the mark. He didn’t know what to look for--as far as he was aware, people’s marks could look like anything. The majority of people had some sort of symbol, be it a flower or animal or even some sort of item that’s a shared interest of the duo.
Dottore had no idea what he might share with his soulmate.
Methodologically, he turned over each arm--just as his parents would do when they were frantically searching him for a mark when he was a child.
Nothing.
Dottore stared at himself in the mirror, the scars that littered his body and face were stark in comparison to the rest of the fair skin. He shook his head as he finally turned around, back facing the mirror. He twisted his neck, looking over his shoulder to scan his back, gaze crawling up from his waistband until it reached his shoulders.
Dottore inhaled sharply, red eyes widening just a bit as he caught sight of the mark branded right between his shoulder blades--a small cluster of purple flowers spread out on his skin.
Heliotropes, he recognized and Dottore didn’t know if he should roll his eyes or laugh at the irony. Symbol of eternal devotion… poisonous to humans.
Of course.
Dottore thought that should be enough of a sign to end this before it weakened him even further--nip the issue in the bud before it could become detrimental. He had never actually seen someone cut their thread before but there were old wives’ tales about it and if anyone could figure out how to do it, it would be him.
For his sake, and for whoever was on the opposite end.
… and then there was a little tug at the string--once, then twice, and then a third time.
The moon was high in the sky now. Night had long fallen. He wondered if this was meant to be a goodnight.
Dottore sighed as he stepped away from the mirror, sitting down at the edge of his bed, leaving the goodnight unanswered as he contemplated what he should do. His gaze shifted back to the window as a branch rattled the glass.
Dottore hated the winter. Time and time again, it proved to be the worst months of his life… but a part of him--deep, deep down--wondered if this was all too bad because as he watched the ice creep up the frame of the window, this time with the phantom vibrations of his soulmate flicking at the string, it was with a bit more fondness than there was the night before.
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reblogs appreciated!
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HELIOTROPES
pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and cruel and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore's past includes webtoon mindset.
notes: okay y'all i know I gave u a choice over what u want to see int he next chapter but free choice is only an illusion & mother knows best & I took ur wants into consideration & decided against it bc I had a rlly great idea that can only be implemented in this chapter bc there would be no other opportunities for it later on. but im rlly happy w how some of these scenes came out so hopefully u guys are too.
RISE OF A KING, FALL OF A QUEEN
This again.
You wanted to frown as you found yourself in a large room akin to a chamber with a tall, dome-like ceiling and marble pillars that stretched the height of the room. You were sat in a chair, wooden and creaky, and you could feel the cold shackles wrapped around your ankles without even looking down to see them for yourself.
There were six figures sitting before you, each on large seats that reminded you of Chief Justice Neuvillette’s back in the Fontaine courthouse. Even the air was similar--damp and heavy, it made your skin crawl.
He was on trial, you put together quickly, but for what? And… where?
There wasn’t much in your line of sight besides the six people sitting in front of you. No, that’s not right. You could see a few more figures from the corner of your eye--they were armed with swords and polearms, tense and ready to act. They wore uniforms of some kind but you couldn’t make out what they were from, you didn’t recognize them.
“Three hundred years,” one of the men in the six seats spat out. “It’s been three hundred years since the sages have had to gather for a situation like this. This should have been handled before it escalated to this, Sayid. He no longer brings shame just on the Kshahrewar Darshan, now he brings it upon all of us. This has gone too far.”
Sages, Darshan, this was the Akademiya. These were the Great Sages. The people lining the wall were the Matra.
“Attempting the forbidden, interfering with natural evolution, delving beyond the universe--three sins that he has committed and somehow this is still a discussion,” another voice--a woman this time--added on.
You thought that he should have felt anxious, upset, or even offended by the accusations but you could feel nothing. No tug at your heart, no feeling of your stomach dropping, just a cold and empty void where there should have been emotions.
“It is a discussion because there’s not yet any proof of the sins having been committed,” a tight, male voice rebutted. “What say you, Zandik? Will you defend yourself or just sit there silently?”
Zandik. That was his name--only now you could remember, though it felt as if you had never even forgotten it.
Your lips moved as he responded, voice apathetic and dismissive: “There’s nothing to say… as you said, there is no proof of sins that I have to defend myself from.” His lips pulled up into a thin smile as he spoke, one that unnerved you and you couldn’t even see it. From the expressions on some of the people sitting in front of you, they were just as unnerved as you were.
“He doesn’t even care, Sayid,” the first man hissed. “He won’t even address the accusations laid against him.”
“Sins are not the issue at hand,” a new voice spoke up, voice low and heavy. “We are here to discuss what happened to my Dastur in the Apam Woods.”
Finally, a reaction from Zandik. He raised his chin in response to their words, a feigned attempt at confidence but you could feel the discomfort that began to stir within him--the unease. Somehow you knew that whatever he had been told he was called here for, this had not been it. They had caught him off guard.
“What is there to discuss about that?” Zandik asked. His voice sounded the same as it did before--indifferent, perfunctory--but you could feel the way his heart was beating just a fraction faster than it had been before, you could feel the way his shoulders had stiffened. “It was an unfortunate encounter with a group of Rishboland Tigers. Tragic and should have been avoidable but one of the other trainees had forgotten to set up incense to ward them off.”
“Yes,” one of the men agreed with him, “so the official report says.”
You felt restless as if you wanted to bolt from the room and hide… or he did, for the most part, but some of it was your own. You had attended enough court sessions at Fontaine’s court to know exactly what your soulmate was being accused of… and you had seen enough guilty defendants to know that the accusations were likely not far off from correct.
Did he…?
“Yes,” Zandik agreed slowly, “because that is what happened.”
“Is it?” The man who initially changed the topic questioned. “The coroner has released to us the official report of Dastur Sohreh’s death. There were multiple trauma wounds… lacerations and contusions on internal organs… hemorrhage… but the fatal injury was a wound on the throat--a fractured hyoid bone caused by strangulation. You were the last person seen with Dastur Sohreh, were you not, trainee?”
“Sharnama,” a woman’s voice warned but the man only held up his hand, silencing her, waiting for Zandik to respond.
Zandik did not respond. You could feel the way he was scrambling for an answer, an explanation. You could feel how his heart was racing, how his body was tense. You could feel his anxiety and the realization dawning on him and it all made you sick to your stomach.
What did you do? You wanted to scream at him. Why did you do it?
As if they could hear your questions, the man continued. “Dastur Sohreh reported to me several acts of insubordination while you were under her tutelage--three times in which you acted without her authorization and brought risks upon the investigation team and an encounter with a ruin hunter in which you insisted on bringing the machinery back to the Akademiya to be disassembled and reverse-engineered, which I personally had to reprimand you for and had you removed from the author list of the investigation’s research paper. When did that happen in regard to Dastur Sohreh’s death, trainee?”
“A week,” the words were frigid and biting as Zandik finally spoke up. “It happened a week before her death.”
“Yes,” he drawled, “that was it.”
“I had nothing to do with her death,” Zandik said.
You thought you had gotten good at being able to tell whether or not people were lying. You spent three days a week in the court audience watching trials but you were in your soulmate’s body and you could not tell whether he was lying or telling the truth about murdering someone. His heart was racing and there was a twitch in the corner of his lip--the telltale signs of a lie but they could just as easily be a result of the anxiety stemming from being accused of murder.
(You wondered, distantly, if you were just making excuses so you didn’t have to face the reality that had so suddenly been thrown at you. You had enough experience in court to differentiate the guilty from the innocent.)
“I suppose we have no way of proving that… so you are not at threat of imprisonment,” was his only response but Zandik was not at ease by those words, as if he knew exactly what was coming next. “But with reasonable suspicion of your involvement on top of the allegations regarding your research violating three sins provides grounds for expulsion… assuming it is a unanimous decision.”
It was a question cast to the other five seated in front of Zandik. You noted how Zandik seemed more anxious at the prospect of expulsion than he did at being accused of murder and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about that.
“Sharnama,” the only woman amongst the six spoke again, “you mean to make us the first council of sages to expel a student in centuries. The last time-”
“He murdered my Dastur, Anisa,” Sharnama snapped in response.
“I did not-” Zandik’s voice rose, harsh in defense of himself but he was cut off sharply.
“Enough from you, you had your chance to defend yourself,” Sharnama said, tone laced with venom.
“Sharnama is harsh but… the trainee has had a reputation since his time as a student,” one of the other men agreed after a few moments of silence. “His methods and theories… his interest in Khaenri’ahn machinery… It makes people uncomfortable.”
“Discomfort is not grounds for expulsion, Isami, but regardless, we cannot just dismiss all of these allegations. Should any of them prove to be true and it comes out that we knew and did nothing about it…”
“It would tarnish the integrity of the Akademiya,” the woman, Anisa, agreed quietly. “Sayid, Khalil?”
“This should have been handled when the accusations of him infringing upon the laws and rules our predecessors set up first came about,” one of the men said and you could feel Zandik’s throat spasm as he swallowed, panic beginning to set in.
“... Sayid?” Anisa pressed after a few moments of silence.
And you could feel it. You could feel that small, minuscule bud of hope begin to bloom deep in Zandik’s chest as he shifted a wild gaze over to the sage called Sayid. You had a decent understanding of the structure of Sumeru’s Akademiya after having looked into it because of your suspicions about your soulmate, you supposed this man was the sage of whatever Darshan Zandik was a part of--Kshahrewar, you remembered one of the other men mentioning before.
Zandik trusted Sayid to defend him, you could feel it and you could feel the way his face fell and the way his stomach dropped when Sayid looked away from him, as good an answer as damning him aloud as Sharnama took his silence as agreement, waving his hand for the matra to take him.
You didn’t think Zandik even registered what had happened until rough hands were forcing him to his feet, starting to drag him from the room, and then, finally, the rage hit--bitter and deep, overwhelming.
“Over rumors and false allegations,” Zandik spat out, hatred dripping from every word. “You’ll expel me for that?”
He got no response besides the harsh words of one of the matra urging him along but he struggled against them with every step, even with fingers digging deep into his biceps, bruising his skin, he was undeterred.
“You sages can’t even fall in line with the very virtues you set out to preserve,” he seethed, “and the sins that you deem so treacherous are just an excuse to chain anyone whose convictions do not fit your standards because you fear that a change in our way of thinking will displace your power.”
You had never felt anything like this before. This feral fury that had your blood on fire and your brain melting of coherent thought--uncontrollable and unquenchable, a type of bloodlust that shook you to your core and scared you because you could feel yourself angry too and you weren’t sure if it were remnants of Zandik’s rage spilling to you or not and you hated how you were being so influenced by his emotions that you couldn’t tell what was his and what was yours anymore.
“You’re going to regret this,” Zandik shouted as the matra pulled him through the doors of the chamber. His words, the sages’ words, they all echoed in your head over and over again--all of the accusations, his reactions, and you wondered what it meant and how much of it was true and you wondered who he was not for the first time and certainly not the last. “You’re going to regret this!”
He didn’t even bother to try the tricks he attempted last time--searching for something to read, yelling, blinking, he knew none of it would work and he wasn’t the type of person to make the same mistake twice.
The room he was in--she was in--was large and enclosed with an overwhelmingly sweet and sickly flowery scent that made his stomach churn. He had always hated floral scents and this was beyond anything he had ever smelt before.
And there were too many people. There were too many goddamn people. They were packed in seats before where his soulmate was sitting, they were lined up around the room as if they were waiting to do something, there were so many that the line was even pushed out two double doors, flowing into the hall.
What was going on?
Dottore couldn’t tell. His soulmate was facing the crowd of people--there was something behind her, he could tell that much. He couldn’t see any flowers so he assumed that whatever that scent was, was coming from behind her.
There was a man standing next to her--an older one with a cold, unfriendly expression and thick build. He watched as a woman approached the older man, disgust curling in his gut at the snot-faced expression painting her face, wide teary eyes and trembling lips as she reached for the man’s hand. Dottore wanted to step away, draw back and leave before the woman could set her eyes on him but alas, he was not in control of his body--her body--again.
The more he thought about it, the more odd this was. The last time he had witnessed her past through dreams, her emotions had been loud and intense, deafening. It had him spiraling because he couldn’t understand what he was feeling and he couldn’t tell if he was feeling it or if it was her.
Now, it was empty. There was no joy, no anxiety, no fear or sadness; just a cool void, reminiscent of how the past week and a half of silence from her had felt. Dottore wondered if that was why Celestia was forcing him to sit through another sequence of dreams--punishment for trying to push her away.
Succeeding in pushing her away, he corrected silently, there was an odd pit in his stomach at the thought. He should be happy, he had been worried that not even a direct strike against her persistence would deter her but he had found success in the first attempt.
It was what he wanted. He no longer had to deal with the frequent tugs on the thread. He no longer had to deal with the fluctuating emotions. He no longer had to deal with the good mornings and goodnights and the incessant questions.
The past week had been the most peaceful and productive he’s had ever since that damned string appeared and yet somehow, he was not happy.
It was what he wanted, he repeated but a part of him felt as if he might be trying to convince himself of it.
Around him, people were talking. He could see their lips moving and he could hear the words leaving their lips but they were unintelligible and garbled, it sounded as if they were underwater and only speaking half a word at a time, combining them to create words that didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t read their lips, no matter how hard he tried, it just looked as if they were speaking a foreign language.
The woman who had been talking to the older man now turned to his soulmate. Instantly, dread was rocketing through him--he knew what was about to happen and there was simply nothing that he could do about it.
Thin arms wrapped around her, tighter than he thought it would be and he wondered, hatefully, if his soulmate was some agent of Celestia sent to make his life a living hell. Three times now, he was forced to experience something through her that made his skin crawl. First, he was tossed around through that winter storm because she made stupid decisions. Then he was slapped. And now, there was a woman clinging to him, sobbing and speaking words that he couldn’t even understand and all he could do was stand there and let it happen because that’s what she was doing.
It took far too long for another woman to come along and drag her off. Dottore was livid, if he looked to the side, he was sure he would see snot on his soulmate’s shoulder and he could still feel bony arms digging into her sides.
He wasn’t sure how long she stood there. It felt like an eternity and only a few seconds somehow at the same time. People were passing by her in slow motion but they were gone in an instant. Dottore was distinctly unsettled, it felt like someone was fucking with his head, forcing him to perceive things wrongly.
Eventually, his soulmate was approached by someone new--a younger man with dark hair and purple-red eyes. He ignored the older man to her side, everyone else had stopped at him first and then moved to her but he had beelined right to her.
Something didn’t sit right in his stomach about that.
Dottore braced himself as best as he could as the other man reached out to grab his soulmate but instead of pulling her into a hug, he only grabbed her forearms, leaning his head down to say something that Dottore couldn’t understand again.
He was undeterred by her lack of reaction, trying again and again and again. Dottore had half a mind to bash his head in and tell him to leave, fed up by this whole situation. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to escape this. When he thought he finally succeeded, he was dragged right back in by Celestia and their fucked up games.
Then, at last, Dottore could hear again. His soulmate was snapped out of whatever daze she had been in and noise exploded around him: scraping of chairs against the ground, mindless chatter, a violin muted in the background, slow and mournful.
A funeral.
For who?
It had to be someone close to his soulmate from how they were all approaching her and suddenly, he was reminded of that night all of those years ago during the event where Pantalone was being officially promoted to Harbinger. Father, branded right on his forearm. He had yet to get a look at his soulmate through a reflection--he wondered if this was the funeral.
Most of the chatter was sympathetic, talking about the deceased and reminiscing old times… but not all of it was. He could hear whispers of men talking about what this could mean for the stability of the court, eyeing up the new opportunities that came with this death, some sounded excited rather than melancholic, like hyenas feasting on one of their own.
“There you are,” the young man in front of her said with a small smile that made Dottore frown. “Ignore all of them, they did the same thing when my grandfather died. Came to the funeral under the guise of mourning just so they could see if there was any instability for them to leech on. There wasn’t then and there isn’t now.”
“There isn’t?” his soulmate spoke for the first time--her voice was hoarse and empty, the only sort of emotion was a dull sense of doubt. “All they talk about is how I’m too weak to take over for my grandfather. They say a woman is unfit to be warden.”
“If they saw the way you could work your family’s-” he began loudly.
“Wriothesley,” the older man standing next to his soulmate said, a warning written all over his face.
“Sorry,” Wriothesley said, looking away.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” his soulmate said after a few moments of silence, voice quiet. “The instability is right in front of everyone’s faces. They can all see that they’re not here, Wrio.”
Wrio, Dottore thought to himself spitefully once he heard the nickname.
Wriothesley looked irritated at her words, glancing once at the older man again before speaking back up, “They didn’t show up at all? Your mother? Siblings? To your father’s funeral?”
There it was. Finally, a bit of emotion from her. She was hurt at his words, he could feel something pinching at his chest, a dark and unwelcome feeling but for some reason, it made him feel a bit more at ease after the past week of silence.
“They were busy,” she said quietly but Dottore could tell that she didn’t even believe the words herself. Neither did Wriothesley, if the expression on his face had anything to say about it. “They were, Wrio.”
Dottore wanted to roll his eyes once he heard the nickname again but instead, he distracted himself with what she had said. He thought back to the previous dreams he had of her past--being left behind by her mother and stepfather while they went to town, the argument with her mother and the slap… somehow, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had chosen not to go.
Wriothesley scoffed loudly, loud enough to draw the attention of some of the other attendees. “They’re despicable,” he spat out. “Especially that skeevy, rat-faced-”
“Come, Wriothesley,” a middle-aged man who looked just like the younger man said sharply, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. “This is not the place for this topic. You can speak to your betrothed another time.”
Dottore blanched.
Betrothed?
Blood.
That was the first thing you noticed. The thick, nasty scent of iron was all around you--around him, whatever. It was disgusting, overwhelming. You wanted to throw up, you thought that if you were in your own body, you might’ve passed out but you were in his, Zandik’s, and he was totally unbothered by the smell.
Something was wrong with your eyes--that was the second thing you noticed. You had no peripheral vision, the only thing you could see was his hands resting on the lab table in front of you, fresh and dry blood staining his skin, dripping to the floor below.
He was angry, the third thing you noticed. You could feel the rage curling in his gut; his nails digging into the table, grinding against the metal. You couldn’t figure out what he was angry about and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know because you had a distinct feeling that it had something to do with the blood on his hands and the lab table.
Zandik finally moved, an awful scraping sound meeting your ears as his nails dragged against the metal when he pushed off the table. He paced up and down the length of the room, muttering to himself.
“Everything was right.”
“What went wrong?”
“-was supposed to work, don’t under-”
As he turned, you could see something--some sort of machine laying across the lab table that hadn’t been in your line of sight before. You wondered if these were ruin guards that he talked about so much. There was something pooling around it; from the distance you were at, you thought it might be oil but Zandik turned on his heel to move closer to it and a sinking feeling formed in your stomach when you realized that it was not oil, instead it was a massive puddle of blood surrounding the machine.
What the fuck? You thought to yourself as Zandik stood in front of the machine, taking one of its arms in his hand. The metal somehow felt cool and hot at the same time, uncomfortable to the touch. You wanted to let go of it, there was blood coating the metal and staining his hands even more, but Zandik’s grip was tight around it.
Why was a machine bleeding? You were sick at the thought, hoards of horrible possibilities running through your head but you didn’t get a chance to dwell on any of them.
Zandik sighed, annoyed, jerking away from the machine again to pace. His head shook back and forth in a rough manner that started to give you a headache, he did it over and over and over again and you wanted to scream at him to stop.
“This was supposed to work, Grand Sage,” he said, clicking his tongue sharply once, then twice, and then a third time. “This was supposed to work. I did everything right. Why aren’t you working?”
Is he talking to-
Zandik marched right back toward the machine, much to your displeasure. The longer he stared at the automaton, the more uncomfortable you felt. You could tell that it had been modified in several places, disassembled and put back together but it almost looked as if… he had put something inside it?
“Why aren’t you working, Grand Sage?” he repeated, humming to himself irritably as he tapped his fingers against the metal. “I even went out to fetch you a new core, you’ve always been so damn ungrateful, haven’t you? Everything I did for your Darshan and you still turned your back on me. Ungrateful, even when I’m trying to make you greater than man.”
-to the machine?
You wanted to wake up, you didn’t want to see whatever this dream was showing you. You wondered if it was some cruel joke the gods were playing on you by showing you this. Or maybe they were trying to help you, you considered. He had made his opinion on you clear and yet every day you were still tempted to reach out to him, maybe they were trying to help you move past him.
“Is this what you plan to do with yourself?” a low, unfamiliar voice spoke up suddenly from the opposite end of the room.
Zandik was startled, heart racing and head whipping to the side as he snapped his fingers together. Instantly, there was a loud whirring machine coming from behind him, metal scraping against metal--the sound of an automaton coming to life. His gaze focused on a figure stepping out from the shadows of the corner of the room, tall with graying hair and a mask that covered the entire right half of his face.
“Who are you?” Zandik demanded harshly and finally, you caught sight of him through the reflection of a metal cabinet. Red eyes stared back at you through a mask that covered three-quarters of his face and short silvery blue hair that had blood dripping from the tips of his curls. “Who are you?”
“So much potential wasting away in this poor excuse of a lab,” the man continued, undeterred by Zandik’s hostility. An eerie feeling swept over you--you weren’t sure if it was you or Zandik becoming unnerved by the man, maybe it was both of you. “Don’t you want something more?”
“What are you talking about?” Zandik asked sharply, a scalpel clutched tight in his fist--somehow, you knew that it was no match for the man standing before him and you had a feeling that he knew that too. “Did the Akademiya send you? Who are you?”
“I came after hearing rumors of an expelled student performing heretical acts… So far I’m unimpressed.”
The anger that spread through him was like wildfire, consuming all rationality and any other emotion he might’ve felt. In an instant, the automaton that had awakened behind him was moving, launching across the room at a pace that had you reeling, blades slashing outward but then at once, it stopped. A cold silence took over the room, Zandik’s brows furrowed and his lips turned down as the automaton came to a stop, shutting down right before his eyes.
“Interesting enhancements… but unchanged at its core, meant to be operated by those that created them, not a follower of the gods.”
“I am not a follower of the gods,” Zandik spat out violently, stepping forward before he paused as if reconsidering the man’s statement. “Meant to be operated… you?”
“Yes,” he responded, ignoring Zandik’s entire change of demeanor at his words. You thought you might feel even more unnerved now, at the excited feeling bubbling inside Zandik as he stared at the man, waiting for him to continue. “What are your goals, outcast?”
Zandik frowned. “That’s not my name-” he began but was interrupted.
“If I cared for your name, I would have learned it. If you prove yourself useful, you will be given a new identity anyway,” he told Zandik. “Now answer me, outcast, what are your goals?”
Zandik didn’t answer for a moment, staring at him, but then he glanced back at the automaton still laying on the lab table, the pool of blood beneath it now larger. Luckily, his gaze didn’t linger on it for long.
“I’m going to enhance humans so that we can rival gods,” Zandik said, raising his chin to focus his eyes back on the man. “What do you mean? Prove yourself useful? To whom? You?”
“Lofty goals,” was all he received as a response. Zandik bristled. “How do you plan to do that? With what resources?”
Zandik opened his mouth to respond but no words left his lips. Finally, he pushed out, “I’m making progress just fine.”
“Yes,” the man said dryly, his visible eye drifting over to the mess behind Zandik. “I can see that…”
You didn’t think you liked where this was heading. Zandik was still suspicious but now he was intrigued, ready to listen to this man and whatever he had to say, and you had a feeling that this man would bring nothing good.
“I can provide you with resources,” he offered. “Funding, rare materials… new test subjects. All of the finest and as much as you need.”
“What do you want in return?” Zandik asked.
“There is a war coming,” he responded cryptically, “and you are going to help prepare us for it.”
“A war?” Zandik asked, baffled. “A war against who?”
But you knew.
You knew.
It was the same war that had the Hydro Archon’s paranoia escalating. The war that forced you to hide your soulmark and thread your entire life, that had you looked down on and whispered about because you had to tell people you had no soulmate. The war led by the same organization that had sent your stepfather to Fontaine as an infiltrator, the man who had killed your father and ruined your life.
At once, all of your nightmares and all of your worst fears came true.
“A war against the gods.”
Betrothed?
Dottore was appalled, reeling at the knowledge that was just forced onto him. The scene shifted, Dottore was now in a smaller room kneeling in front of a woman that he recognized from the first dream he had of his soulmate but he couldn’t even focus on the situation at hand.
Betrothed??
Since when had she been betrothed? Dottore thought that would have been one of things that she mentioned when she was rambling on about her days at night. He thought it might’ve been something that was at least hinted at when she couldn’t control what words were being sent to him.
“I have to leave, mother,” Dottore’s lips were moving as she spoke but quite frankly, he didn’t give a shit about whatever conversation she was having with her mother. The lack of emotions she was feeling left a vacuum that allowed his feelings to spiral and he was having trouble trying to keep control of them.
He couldn’t even tell what the emotions rattling him were. He thought that he had become better at pinpointing emotions ever since he was forced to deal with hers but this was foreign--green and ugly, beyond just anger or sadness, stronger than anything he’s felt in centuries.
“You do not have to leave, you’re choosing to.”
Dottore thought he might feel insulted--disrespected, even, being given a soulmate only for them to be married off to someone else. Another cruel joke played by the gods to spite him, a cruel joke played by her to spite him. He wondered if this was her getting back at him for never responding to those goodnight tugs she always used to do: talking to him, trying to get him to fall for her trap and respond, only for her to be with someone else.
“I do, I have to go. There’s something I have to do.”
He shouldn’t feel insulted, or disrespected. He shouldn’t care at all whether or not his soulmate was betrothed to someone else. He never planned on speaking to her. He never planned on meeting her. And he absolutely never planned to do anything about the bond forced on him by Celestia. In fact, this should make him feel better. It meant that there was less of a chance for her to reach out to him again if she was in a relationship with someone else.
It freed him of her. This should be a good thing for him, so why was he so angry?
“You won’t even tell me where you’re going,” her mother snapped. “Best not be to the north, there’s only so much more I can defend you from peoples’ suspicions. They’re starting to ask questions.”
But it was not a matter of whether or not he should or shouldn’t care. It was the sheer audacity she had to keep reaching out to him when she was set to marry, or even has married someone else at this point. She was trying to play games with him and if there was one thing that Dottore couldn’t stand, it was someone trying to play games with him--be it the gods, other Harbingers, or some random girl that Celestia decided to tie him to.
“It doesn’t matter where-”
“Of course, it matters,” the mother said, fingers digging into his soulmate’s forearms. “What am I to tell Her Excellency when she asks about where you went off to? The last thing our family needs is the speculation that would come along with people thinking you went off to Snezhnaya.”
Finally, he felt something from her--something sharp and jagged tugging at her chest that drew him from his thoughts, an emotion he had become acquainted with through her intimately over the past few years: sadness, disappointment.
“Wow,” she said dryly, “that’s what you’re worried about. Suspicions against your family. Not whether or not I might be going somewhere dangerous.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” her mother said, livid. “Of course, I care about whether or not you’re going somewhere dangerous. I’m your mother.”
“I’m not going to argue with you,” his soulmate said after a moment, rising to her feet and pulling her arms from her mother’s grip. “You can tell the Hydro Archon I’ve left for Mondstadt.”
“Is that where you’re actually going?” her mother rose to her feet after her, taking a step forward, but his soulmate did not respond. Her mother’s face fell. “You’re going north, aren’t you?”
Dottore finally focused on the situation at hand. North? But the only thing north of Fontaine was-
“Aren’t you?” her mother demanded. “You’re going to Snezhnaya? Why are you going there? To find him?”
Him. She must be referring to Dottore. But why would his soulmate come looking for him if she had…?
“I didn’t say that,” his soulmate shook her head, looking away out toward the window. It was a dreary day, dark clouds hanging low and rain sprinkling down to the streets below. “I told you to tell the Hydro Archon I’m going to Mondstadt.”
“Why are you going there? Why? Answer me,” her mother’s voice rose, eyes tearing up as she stepped closer to his soulmate. She stepped back, freezing her mother in place.
“Have you ever communicated with your soulmate through thoughts? The words that show up on your forearm?” she finally asked, tone harsh and accusing, a sudden change of subject.
Dottore paused, trying to put together what this might be about now. This was another reason why he hated these damn dreams, he never had any context behind what was happening and Dottore hated not knowing things.
“What sort of question is that?” her mother hissed, taken aback. “Of course-”
Her mother cut herself off suddenly, brows furrowing and lips twisting into a deep frown. Dottore could feel his soulmate swallow thickly, watching the reaction to her question. She had been expecting this and he wasn’t sure if it was dread or satisfaction pooling in her stomach--maybe both.
“Have you ever thought about why you don’t communicate through it? Have you ever tried and he just doesn’t respond? Do you try flicking your thread? Does he flick it back?” his soulmate let loose a barrage of questions and a creeping suspicion began to arise, wondering if she was implying what he thought she was.
“What are you trying to say?” her mother shook her head, stepping away. “Enough.”
“I’m not trying to say anything,” his soulmate responded, turning on her heel to leave the room. “But maybe you should think about it.”
She didn’t say anything else as she left the room and finally, Dottore could think.
She was accusing her stepfather of faking the bond with her mother, Dottore realized. But how would he do that? He knew people were capable of faking bonds through old magics but as far as he was aware that type of magic was all but lost… Dottore’s mind was suddenly racing, remembering all of the things he had forgotten in the last dream he had of her past: what he had figured out about the spy in the upper ranks of the Fatui and they had a spy in Fontaine, one of Arlecchino’s spiders and Arlecchino was capable of the old magic, and his soulmate was coming north to Snezhnaya so obviously she must have reason to believe that it had something to do with the Fatui, could it be-
Dottore felt a headache coming on.
He had a feeling that this was going to be very, very bad.
You woke up with a sharp, shaky breath. Your hand flew to your chest as you sat up straight, reeling from what you had just experienced. Blood, anger, betrayal, hope--what could you remember? What could you remember?
You scrambled to the small table at your bedside immediately, grabbing your notebook and panicking to find the pen that had fallen to the floor. You dropped to your hands and knees, fumbling around in the dark until you found it beneath your bed. You didn’t even bother rising to your feet again as you made yourself comfortable on the floor so you could start jotting down everything you remembered.
A cold, empty room. Six people. Exile? Sins and virtues. Lots of blood. An automaton. Uncontrollable, sickening rage. An unfamiliar figure. War.
War.
But what was the context? Your head was pounding as you tried to remember, you wondered if Celestia was warning you against trying to push too hard for information you’re not meant to remember yet. You didn’t care. You had to know.
War. The rebellion stirring in the north. But what about it? What was the damn context?
You glanced down at your forearm, frustration pricking at you as the window above you rattled against the Snezhnayan winter storm. You could feel the freezing air even from inside the warm room with the fireplace burning on the opposite wall--it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, the cold storms at the estate that you thought were the end of the world paled in comparison to this.
You wanted to yell at him, demand to know who he was and what he had done, beg him for the answers that you should’ve received by now… but you remembered the words scrawled across your forearm, the cruel words that cut deeper than any of the nasty words that had been spat at you by people throughout your life.
He did not care about you, you reminded yourself, you have more self-respect than this. Do not reach out to him.
You sighed heavily, arm dropping to your side as you stared back up at the window, watching a branch scrape against the glass over and over and over again. You were only on the Snezhnayan border but already you were feeling anxious--you had half a mind to turn back but the only thing stopping you was the memory of your father, the lust for justice, vengeance. You couldn’t turn back, not until you had all of the information you needed, not until you were sure you could return to Fontaine and have your stepfather imprisoned in the Black Cells.
There was a heavy feeling in your heart as you pushed yourself back off the floor, putting the notebook away and taking a seat back on the thin mattress of the inn you were staying at, the wood of the bed frame creaking beneath you.
You had a distinct feeling that your journey to find proof against your stepfather would lead you to him as well.
He sat upright, eyes wild as he tried to figure out where he was. His heart was racing, anger was still flooding his blood, he breathed in and out deeply as he tried to regain control of himself. He was back in his lab--not dealing with any more of those god forsaken dreams. He wanted to spit out a string of vile curses up toward the gods but he refrained, trying to piece together what he could remember before the vague memories faded.
He flipped over the parchment he had been taking notes on before he had fallen asleep, rubbing the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed his pen to the paper and noted down all of the hazy details.
Flowers. Wrio? Betrothed?? Mother. Leaving. Snezhnaya.
Dottore exhaled, gaze zeroing in on the third word of his list--betrothed. He glanced down at the thread connected to his thumb, inhaling deeply as an unfamiliar emotion began to churn inside of him. Before it could take hold, Dottore diverted his attention to the last two words.
Leaving. Snezhnaya.
What did that mean? What was the context? He couldn’t remember. Was she coming to Snezhnaya? Was she in Snezhnaya and leaving? Or did the two words not have any connection?
No, they had to be connected. It was something important, he knew that much at least, but what? The answer was on the tip of his tongue and again that temper of his began to thin, what was the answer? What was the goddamn answer? Why was she coming to Snezhnaya?
Should he ask?
The option rang damning through his head as he looked down at his forearm. She could be in danger if she came to Snezhnaya--the nation was becoming more and more antagonistic to outsiders, especially outsiders from Fontaine and Natlan and especially because of the masked hostile that was running through Fatui camps and slaughtering their underlings. No matter how much Pulcinella and Pantalone demanded that they take caution with outsiders, there was no telling what a heat of the moment reaction could lead to if there was a possible threat and Arlecchino had made clear that Fontaine was on the verge of becoming a threat to the Fatui.
As he contemplated his choices, Dottore suddenly paused, another realization hitting him suddenly: if he had dreamt of her past then…
Then she dreamed of his past.
Dottore waited, staring at his forearm--waiting for the questions, the disgust, the horror. It was inevitable, he knew it. Last time, he assumed they dreamed of similar time periods of their life. Hers was when she was young, five to twelve years old between both dreams, he assumed; and the word he received from her was cursed, which was directed at him from when he was a child up until he was chased from the village at ten. And if the time periods were similar… that left his Akademiya and post-Akademiya era up as options for what she could have dreamt about, and neither of those periods of his life were particularly pleasant.
He waited and he waited and he waited… but nothing showed up on his forearm, not a question nor an accusation, no emotion spread through him that he thought might’ve been hers--just emptiness, just like it had been for the past week and a half.
Dottore exhaled heavily, leaning back against his seat and staring up at the ceiling above him, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with this and how he was supposed to make sure she didn’t get herself killed traveling through Snezhnaya.
The week and a half of peace was over and he realized, quickly, that it had only been the calm before the storm.
rbs appreciated!
HELIOTROPES
pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and cruel and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part, forbidden love
warnings: fem!reader, age gap, lots of worldbuilding for snezhnaya & the fatui & fontaine, dottore is his own warning, light angst but mostly romance, none others that i can think of off the top of my head, this is a lighter series compared to the others i’ve written. each chapter will have its own warnings, it is self-ship coded, and i will take liberty with dottore’s known lore.
status: incomplete
taglist: 50/50 (CLOSED. if you would like to be on it, still comment here—i’m going to periodically go through and remove people who don’t interact, and then i’ll add you)
notes: sigh i wanted to give my beluved a little series. this is something i’ll be working on in my free time for fun, so updates will be sporadic, i was gonna post the reincarnation fic butttt that one is a little too dear to my heart ALL SEGMENTS THAT SHOW UP IN THIS SERIES ARE MINE ‼️ i created them, do not take them to use for yourself.
00. THE SEGMENTS
01. MIDWINTER
02. JOY
03. THE COLOR PURPLE
04. THE FAMILY JEWELS
05. AN INEXORABLE DEATH
06. RISE OF A KING, FALL OF A QUEEN
… TBA
rbs appreciated!
HELIOTROPES
pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, reader not in the best mental state (esp in first scene).
notes: FINALLY!!! its unedited so bear with me, i dont rlly have time to go through and edit + i've been sick as hell for two weeks straight now. but i hope u guys enjoy!!!
ALEA IACTA EST
You were trapped.
You didn’t know what sort of witchcraft Pantalone used but you couldn’t leave his wing. You thought you might be going crazy, it took two days of making excuses for you to realize that something was severely wrong, and another three for the anxieties to start embedding in your head. You had your first panic attack in years on the sixth day, and now on the seventh, you were sitting in the small library alone—there was a book in your lap, but the words were swimming off the pages and your head was spinning.
How was this what he wanted?
You couldn’t understand how either of you were benefiting from this. He wasn’t getting whatever knowledge he wanted from you and you weren’t getting what you needed to know. You were just stuck here, alone and lost. Not even Pantalone was around for the past few days because he went to finalize a business deal in a Mondstadt port town, he should be coming back soon but even when he did, you knew he wouldn’t spare you much attention.
How was this what he wanted? You wondered if it was supposed to be some sick sort of torture, wear down your mental fortitude so you’d be more apt to answer the questions he wanted. If that was the case, he would be severely disappointed when you spat in his face the next time he dared to make an appearance. Another part of you wondered if this was just how it would be—he would keep you locked up and alone so he didn’t have to deal with you but he also didn’t have to fear you running off and putting yourself in danger.
The more you thought about it, the more you convinced yourself of both options, and the more you hated your own soulmate.
Seven days. It had been seven days of being trapped in this place with only Pantalone to occasionally talk to and of the few times he spoke to you, the majority were just of him going on a vicious rant about how the Tianquan of Liyue kept sidelining his proposals and how the wineries of Mondstadt were icing him out of the wine market with Liyue’s merchants. He claimed it was all some big conspiracy against him because there was no reason they should be blatantly disregarding his letters, all of his proposals were mostly targeted for their profit, which the Regrator thought was blasphemous in itself—the Jester apparently cared more for building relationships with the administrative and economic sectors of each of the nations than Pantalone’s dignity as a businessman. You, evidently, did not give him the outraged reaction he wanted and he hadn’t come back to speak with you since, leaving for his meeting across the nation without a word.
Now you were alone, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you—and you knew it was not Dottore.
You exhaled as you tried to focus again on the book laying on your lap but your head throbbed and you were forced to avert your gaze back to the ceiling, trying to quell the pain through sheer willpower alone. The Regrator’s library was filled to the brim, but with nothing that would be of use to you trying to figure out how they had trapped you in this sector. Books on economics, the aristocratic families of Snezhnaya, the history of the northern lands and all of the old traditions and folklore that noble children were brought up learning, undoubtedly so he could fine tune that mask of his, pretending that he had always been one of them in order to shear more money from them.
A part of you wanted to warn him that the more he tried to fake it, the more they would ridicule him, but you didn’t want to be totally isolated again as soon as he came back so you figured you’d just let him figure it out himself.
Regardless, even with the massive amount of books that stacked his library’s walls, not a single one could help you in figuring out this spell. You’d never seen magics like this before—it was not elemental based, it was psyche-based. Every time you got down the hall, to the eighth window from your room to the right, your head started feeling light and dizzy, you felt sick and nauseous and were forced to turn back lest you put yourself in a very, very vulnerable position in a place where you could not afford any vulnerability.
As nervous as it made you, at first, you found amusement in it. You were irritated and scared, yes, but more than that, you knew that Dottore could feel everything you did. So, you made it your mission to stay right at that eighth window for as long as you possibly could, just because you knew that you were racking your soulmate with that same nausea and dizziness and light-headedness that you were experiencing.
Now, the amusement was gone and you were just scared. You were scared that you would be trapped here forever, never again to see your mother and your half-siblings and your grandfather. You were scared that you’d disappoint your father, that you wouldn’t be able to succeed in your mission and he would never be able to rest peacefully without justice having been exacted. And as much as you hated him, you were scared that you would never see him again either, that he would just leave you here to rot, live out the rest of your miserable existence confined to a single hall with books that you would rather burn than read.
You hated that you felt so attached to him already—that even though the thought of him filled you with vile rage and agony, your body still ached for his touch, your eyes still longed for the sight of him walking through the dark doors of the library, and your bond still screamed for you to somehow end this war between the two of you so it could find peace.
Even if peace negotiations were in your hands, you would still stubbornly throw them out the window, but they weren’t because he continued to completely deny you his presence. You were at his mercy, only when he decided, would a white flag be lifted.
“Excuse me.”
You stiffened, an unwelcome chill ran down your spine as you looked over your shoulder to where an unfamiliar figure was standing in the doorframe of the library. With golden blonde curls and green eyes, no more than a decade older than you, you thought that the man might’ve been handsome were it not for that there was a dark gleam behind his eyes that reminded you a lot of your step-father, one that promised danger and deceit.
He smiled and even though his teeth were not sharpened, somehow they looked more like knives than Theta’s did. “You’re the aristocrat from Fontaine that the Regrator took in, no?”
“I am,” you said. Your voice was hoarse from days without speaking, you cleared your throat, closing the book and placing it down on the couch next to you just in case the man tried to take a seat there with you. “And you are?”
He wasn’t as unfamiliar as you originally believed. You recognized him from the event, standing with the rest of the Harbingers—immediately, you were on edge, trying to figure out what he wanted from you. He came closer to you and you bit the words that tempted to fly from your mouth as he picked up the book you had placed as a deterrent to take a seat on the couch right next to you, too close for comfort. You could feel his thigh brushing yours as he looked to the side to watch you, eyes tracing over your body once before settling on your face.
“Brighella,” he greeted, holding a hand out to you. “Tenth of the Fatui Harbingers, delighted to make your acquaintance.”
You placed your hand in his, albeit reluctantly, watching raptly as he lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently before letting go. His lips were soft and pleasant against your fingers yet it still made your skin crawl. You drew your hand back into your lap immediately, waiting for him to explain what he wanted.
“I was just curious,” he said, answering the unspoken question. “The Regrator is a very proud man, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he never responds well to help. It came as a shock to hear that he was taking in an aristocrat from Fontaine as an advisor.”
He was lying—about what, you weren’t sure, but you knew somewhere in that statement of his that there was a lie, and though you had no way of confirming it, you suspected that it had to do with his initial claim: that he was simply curious.
“He intends to expand the Northland Bank into Fontaine City,” was all you replied with, a thin smile painting your lips. “Even someone as proud and intelligent as him is not capable of such a feat alone, the Court of Fontaine is notoriously anti-Snezhnaya.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Brighella waved off your words and relaxed into the chair next to you, eyes disarmingly beseeching as he watched your reactions. “But we have our own operatives in Fontaine City, I was surprised that he didn’t just come to me for information, rather insulting, actually.”
He laid the information in front of you like meat to seduce a starving beast, all the while he lurked behind the bushes and waited for you to lunge at it so he could drive his blade across your neck as an execution. You didn’t respond, maybe for a second longer than you should have, but the sudden information had thrown you off guard.
It was him.
The words rang resounding through your head, Brighella was the one running the Fatui’s operations in Fontaine. Why had he told you? What did he expect to gain from this? There was something you were missing still, but after a week of forced isolation and no progress in your mission, this was like a feast handed to you on a silver platter.
“Perhaps your operatives are just not capable enough for such a scheme,” you said dryly, but your voice sounded vacant even to your own ears, it was clear that you were focused on something else.
Brighella raised a hand to his chest as if he’d been wounded by your words. “Oh, but the Knave and I had trained so many of them personally,” he sighed. “What use am I to this organization if my colleagues won’t even rely on me or my agents to deliver when necessary?”
It was a rhetorical question but you didn’t know what to make of it, or of him. Faux-mourning tainted his tone as he spoke, a regretful expression on his face as he turned his eyes up to the ceiling above.
What was he trying to gain from this? You asked yourself again, more desperately this time. His lips, still tilted up as they’d been this whole conversation, had a bit more of triumph in them than they’d had before and you knew that somewhere you had slipped up, revealing something you shouldn’t have. But you rewound the conversation in your head over and over and over again and you couldn’t quite place where you had. You’d been careful with your words, nothing to set off alarm bells—your cover with the Regrator’s expansion in Fontaine was true, but you were just not being quite as helpful as he would like you to be, and Pantalone was very clear in his opinions on their Fontaine plants and their inadequacy.
It had to have been your tone, the emptiness in your response to his reveal about his subordinates in Fontaine. It gave away your interest, and you could play it off as if it was just a general interest in how they’d infiltrated Fontaine, but if your stepfather truly was his agent, then he would know very well who you were and your ulterior reasons for being here—or he would at least now have confirmation.
Pantalone had told you that Pulcinella, Brighella and Tartaglia would be the three Harbingers who would be the least of your worries, but you thought that the Friar was much more dangerous than he made himself out to be.
How were you supposed to proceed? You tested words on the tip of your tongue but you could not figure out what to say—if you were suddenly interested in him, he would know it was only because of the information he revealed, but if you were cold and distant, you risked him not returning and you needed more information one way or another, even if it meant consorting with a man that made your hair stand on end.
You didn’t get the chance to speak up again though, as your lips parted to speak, Brighella rose to his feet.
“I should get going. I’d prefer not to draw the ire of my fellow Harbingers, but it was a pleasure talking to you,” he murmured, a small smile and eyes turned upward as he nodded his head down in acknowledgement. “I’ll stop by again soon, it’s cruel of the Regrator and the Doctor to leave you alone the way they have.”
Two days later, the Friar returned.
You’d spent the two days alone reeling and trying to understand where you had gone wrong and how you could compensate for it. You needed a plan of action, and a fast and efficient one at that. Freezing him out would be stupid, as much as it might be the most comforting course of action, but you also couldn’t just suddenly be trying to get closer to him because he would realize something was up.
You weren’t stupid. If he had truly just been curious about you, he would have come much sooner than he did. He waited because he wanted you to be worn down and utterly alone, so you would latch onto him like he was a buoy in the raging sea. Unfortunately for him, you were far too used to being alone. As agonizing as a week of isolation was, it was not near enough to make you that desperate.
But he had information you wanted desperately, so you wanted to let him think whatever plan he was concocting was working in hopes that he might reveal more to gain your trust and dependency. You thought it would be a slow and arduous process, not to mention agonizing, but considering neither Pantalone nor Dottore have come to see you in over a week now, you figured you had nothing better to do anyway and this was your best shot at getting what you wanted… and maybe, if you ended up being successful with this, you could free yourself too but you thought that was far less likely.
At the very least, it might force Dottore into action if he thought you were starting to get close with Brighella.
But that was a long shot anyway. Brighella was a type of beast that you were unfamiliar with. He kind of reminded you of some of the crueler members of Fontaine’s aristocracy, the ones who found entertainment in setting up trials that they knew would lead to one terrible sentencing, all the while smiling to the defendants face, but even then they were nothing like this. He was a wolf that portrayed himself as a sheep in the truest sense of the proverb and you just didn’t know what he was capable of, or what he wanted, and that was what scared you most—you didn’t like it when you didn’t know what someone’s intentions were with you.
Your stepfather was easy, all he wanted was more power in Fontaine, evidently to report back to the Fatui for a promotion—you and your father were obstacles in obtaining said power, so he removed your father from being able to influence your mother and you were certain that if you had stayed in Fontaine City, he would have gone after you too.
Dottore was somewhat frank in his intentions with you: he wanted you out of his life so that you couldn’t affect his research but he was keeping you here because he wanted information from you… and a part of you was certain that he was keeping you here also because it prevented you from going out and getting yourself hurt or killed, and that scared you because you didn’t know just how long he planned to keep you isolated here. Or if he ever even planned to release you.
Pantalone had been upfront with you: he wanted a way to get the Northland Bank into Fontaine, you had offered your help in exchange for assistance with removing your stepfather from the courts but you had no intention of giving him any help until he had pulled through on his end. And even then, you had never specified how much help you would give him—you were not going to give the Fatui more of a foothold than they already had.
Not after what they did to your father.
Brighella was an unknown. He had come to you with a goal two days ago, and whatever that goal had been, he had achieved it. You still couldn’t figure what it was, even after days of recounting your conversation to figure it out, and that unnerved you more than anything.
“You actually came back,” you said quietly, eyes flickering up to where Brighella had entered the library. He brought something with him, you couldn’t quite tell what it was but it smelled good, and familiar.
“I promised, didn’t I?” Brighella replied, amused. He came around the couch to sit next to you. He sat closer this time.
“It’s been two days, I was beginning to doubt.”
“Yes, well, the Regrator grew a bit suspicious when he saw me coming from the direction of his wing, the last thing I needed was to draw his ire. The Doctor already has it out for me even when I do no wrong.” Brighella sounded aggrieved as he spoke but your ears rang loudly at his words.
“The Regrator already returned from his meeting in Mondstadt?” you asked, keeping your voice free of all tightness but when Brighella only shot you a confused look, one that did not appear to be feigned in the slightest. “Ah, I see.”
There was no meeting in Mondstadt.
You wondered if it was by Dottore’s will or his own that he had lied and left you here in isolation. You thought it would be easier to believe it was Dottore’s, you had already made him out to be your villain, but you knew better than to assume that. Dottore was obstinate and prideful, yes, but Pantalone was the one who had clawed his way from the bottom tiers of society to the very top, his manipulation would know no bounds—he knew that you were already struggling with Dottore’s refusal to acknowledge you, and he probably thought that his disappearance, after entertaining you for a few days, would put you over the edge.
Jaw tight and trying your best to keep your emotions off of your face lest Brighella take advantage of your distressed realization, you forced yourself to turn your attention back to the Harbinger.
“Here,” Brighella said, passing the covered dish over to you. “Tartiflette, I figure you must be missing home. I hear tartiflette has been rather popular amongst the aristocrats lately.”
I hear.
Bitterly, you wanted to ask just how he managed to hear that but you refrained. Instead, you glanced down at the dish—it was covered with foil but it smelled good, just like the one you and Sylvie used to get from Cafe Lucerne before your father passed away.
You wondered if it was poisoned, or laced with something, you didn’t exactly put it past Brighella. Even if there were ulterior motives behind him bringing you the dish, it was thoughtful nonetheless. So instead of voicing your suspicions or refusing the dish, you took into your lap, letting the warmth of the bottom of the plate and the familiar scent sink in.
“Thank you.”
Brighella looked pleased, green eyes glittering. “You’re welcome.”
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, and you listened to the way the wind rattled the glass nearby. It was getting late already, you could see the moon rising over the trees in the distance. Nine days now with no word from Dottore at all. You were sure he was probably keeping the segments away from you too because you hadn’t seen a single one since that night.
After a few moments of silence, Brighella asked, “He told you that he had a meeting in Mondstadt?”
You didn’t respond, you supposed that was answer enough because he let out a heavy sigh.
“The Regrator does love his underhanded tactics.”
“And you don’t?” you couldn’t help but press, eyeing him curiously.
“I do.” At least he didn’t bother hiding it, shooting you a deceptively friendly smile as he relaxed back into the chair. “But it’s different, my underhanded tactics are for the greater good.”
“Many men have claimed to do terrible things for the greater good,” you murmured. “What makes you different?”
Your subordinate killed my father, you were saying, tell me how that was for the greater good?
Brighella watched you for a second and then said, “Perhaps you’re right, but I’d like to believe otherwise.”
You hummed, looking away but you could feel that he was still looking at you and it was making you feel antsy, like a cornered animal.
Finally, Brighella spoke up again. This time, his voice was far more quiet, as if he didn’t want someone listening in. “I wish we had more time to talk instead of rushing straight to business, but I fear that I’m testing many boundaries and patiences by coming to visit you and I’d like for you to understand why I am.” Curiously, your eyes focused onto him, he was still staring at you, watching your reactions. “The Regrator cannot give you what you want. He has no power in Fontaine, nor jurisdiction over any of the subordinates there, that is why he’s coming to you and trying to get your assistance. He does not want to use me as an intermediary for his business.”
There it was. You raised your chin a bit in surprise as Brighella’s words reached your ears and his motives became clearer. You didn’t doubt that there were other ulterior ones that he was keeping to himself, but this one was enough for you to get some clarity on the situation: Brighella and Pantalone were playing a game of chess for Fontaine, and both thought that you would be the piece that would win them the game.
You realized, slowly, that you might just have a bit more power than you realized, and that Pantalone had been trying to keep you ignorant to it.
It also gave you more insight on the Fatui itself, and more specifically, the relationship between the Harbingers. You had a feeling that the camaraderie shown during the event was just a show but you hadn’t thought the rivalry ran so deep as to having Harbingers competing for power through using outside sources.
You wondered if Brighella realized just how much he had revealed to you. From the steady look in his eyes as he watched you, he very much did. You wondered then why, because it had to be something beyond just trying to get you to not help Pantalone—unless he was that desperate to keep Fontaine in his grasp. But you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you finally responded with, pointedly meeting his eyes.
He was studying you carefully and finally, he nodded, rising to his feet. “It’s alright. I’ll come back soon and give you some time to think. Just remember, what the Regrator promised you is not something he is able to give at this point and time. He’s making you think that you are the one dependent on him but without your cooperation, he doesn’t have a foothold in Fontaine, which is what he desperately wants.”
You didn’t respond as he walked out of the room, but before he stepped through the door, he turned to look at you one last time, “Enjoy the tartiflette—perhaps next time, I’ll bring you an even grander gift.”
You were not in the library the next time Brighella came to visit. You were lounging in your room preparing for bed when the knock came at your door. For a second, just a second, you might’ve hoped that it was Dottore, finally ending the war between the two of you—but as you called for the person to come in, and a head of curly blonde hair and green eyes peeked from around the door, the bit of hope that had sprung up withered in an instant.
“May I?” Brighella asked, motioning for him to come into your room.
How improper, you thought to yourself, trying to force away the heat that rose to your cheeks. But you needed to keep talking to him, milk him for all that he knew before you made a decision about what you were going to do.
“Of course,” you responded with, watching him carefully as he slipped into the room and made his way over to where you were sitting. He sat on the window nook next to where you were sitting at your vanity, leaning back on his hands as he studied you carefully.
“Have you thought about my proposal yet?” Brighella murmured, his eyes were intense as he watched you, you could barely even hold his gaze and you had never had trouble holding anyone’s gaze before.
You had. Of course, you had. With the newfound knowledge of Pantalone’s inability to actually get you what you want without you giving him what he wanted first, everything changed. Your whole position in this situation changed. You were still a prisoner, naturally, but you were a prisoner with power right now. You had two different Harbingers vying to acquire your support. It could change in a second, you knew that, you couldn’t get ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t just disregard the opportunity this presented.
You also could not take everything Brighella said at face value.
You remembered the look in his eyes when you first met him, the skeevy one that reminded you of your stepfather and all of the other men and women in your life who had done terrible, terrible things without remorse.
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied instead, and Brighella sighed, disappointed but not surprised.
“Ah, I see,” Brighella said. “I haven’t quite gained your trust yet—well, perhaps this will change that.”
From his pocket, Brighella pulled out a piece of parchment, sealed with a wax Fatui insignia. He held it out to you and you reached out cautiously, taking it into your hands and turning it over to view the blank back of the parchment. You had no way of knowing the contents of it without breaking the wax seal, you looked up at Brighella, questioningly. He looked pleased, a small smile teasing at his lips.
“This is a letter I have addressed to a particular subordinate of mine stationed down in Fontaine,” Brighella explained, leaning his chin on his hand, elbow propped up on his knee as he watched you. You could only barely bite back the sharp intake of breath as you looked down at the parchment again. “Yes, yes, I know, you don’t know what I’m talking about. But hypothetically, if you did, I was willing to gift you one of two options.”
“What are these hypothetical options?” you asked, your knuckles just a bit too tight around the parchment to pass it off as normal.
“You can keep that letter, and we can work together as partners. I can work with the Knave to set up a mission with the Jester and the Tsaritsa to have you head back to Fontaine, where you can use the letter as evidence to put said subordinate on trial before the Hydro Archon and Chief Justice,” Brighella said, your throat felt tight and swollen, your lips on the verge of trembling.
Everything you wanted, but there had to be a catch. You knew better. For all you knew, the contents of the letter was empty, he could let you go down to Fontaine only to make you look like a fool when you presented the letter as evidence.
“The second option?” you asked, proud that your voice remained steady and void of the turbulent emotions rushing through you.
“I will send it south and summon him back to Snezhnaya. You can exact your own justice here.”
What was the catch?
There had to be a catch, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure it out. You knew it was something more than just preventing Pantalone from stepping into his territory but Brighella was impossible to read and far more unpredictable than you expected. You were baffled that he would go to this length to try to get you to trust him.
“You can hold onto the letter until you’ve made your decision, I-”
“My, my,” a familiar, smooth voice drawled. “What is this?”
At once, your blood ran cold as you looked up to see a familiar figure standing in your doorframe, violet eyes cold and cruel as he stared at where you were sitting with Brighella. Brighella only smiled thinly, mocking, as he looked at Pantalone and said: “Regrator, I hope you don’t mind me spending time with your new advisor, she’s quite the lovely little thing. I’m rather fond of her.”
“Is that meant to mean much?” Pantalone asked dryly, the smile on his lips tightening at the corners and you braced yourself for whatever he was about to say. “You’re fond of everything with two legs that will open for you.”
Your face felt hot, fingers tightening around the parchment as his words registered. Two legs that will open?
How dare he?
Who does he think he is?
The barrage of livid questions battered your head, begging to be let loose but you bit your tongue, sharpening it as you instead responded with: “How crude, I know you had an unfortunate upbringing but I thought you’d learned better by now than to speak every vile word that crosses through that repulsive mind of yours.”
Next to you, Brighella hid his smile behind his hand and you at least felt a little validated even as Pantalone’s eyes bore down into you, you could see the promise for bloodshed barely veiled beneath his calm expression.
“I’ll take my leave.” Brighella rose to his feet and to your horror, he leaned in close to you, taking both of your hands in his and you wanted to pull away, ask him what the hell he was thinking, but the words died on your tongue as he took the parchment from your hand before Pantalone could catch sight of it, subtly letting it drop to the floor before using his foot to slip it beneath the bed. His lips flickered upward. “Think about what I said. I’ll come by again.”
“No, you will not,” Pantalone interjected coolly. “I believe I have mentioned before that you are not welcome in my wing of the palace, Friar.”
“Then I will send one of my subordinates to fetch her to bring her to mine.” Brighella waved off the comment. “It’s no bother.”
He directed a faux-smile toward Pantalone as he slipped past the other Harbinger and left the room, leaving you alone with him. Pantalone stared after Brighella for a moment before turning his attention on you.
You raised your chin and asked sweetly, “How did your business deal down in Mondstadt fare?” knowing damn well that there was no business deal down in Mondstadt.
He very clearly understood what you were getting at, the sweet smile on his lips just as fake as your tone as he said, “Very well.”
“I’m sure.”
The mockery in his eyes slowly slipped away the longer he stared at you—he wanted to say something, that was for sure, but he either didn’t know how to say it or he couldn’t, and you had a distinct feeling that Pantalone spoke more than he breathed so finding a way to say it was not the problem, he felt that he couldn’t.
“The Friar is not to be trusted,” he finally decided.
“There is not a single soul within this palace that is to be trusted,” you countered icily.
He smiled, but the smile did not meet his eyes. “Fair enough.”
There was a quiet tone to his voice, you wondered if any of Brighella’s statements held any truth to them, if he was worried that you would side with the Tenth instead of him, and he would lose his shot at expanding the Northland Bank into Fontaine.
Something wicked swam in his eyes as his gaze cast over where you were sitting once more, voice more scathing now. “I do wonder how the Doctor will feel about your newfound relationship with the Friar,” and you realized that the Regrator did not fret over anything. And if he was backed into a corner like a wounded animal, he would lash out ten times as deadly.
He was threatening to tell Dottore if you did not speak to his liking, if you did not dismiss Brighella’s option.
Your eyes widened, just a bit—you knew there was nothing wrong with what you’d been talking about with the Friar. Dottore knew that you were here for one thing, and one thing alone: obtaining the evidence to convict your stepfather of your father’s murder. But you had a feeling that Pantalone would be spiteful and describe what he had walked in on as not what really happened, he’d put it in the worst light possible and blow the slim chance you had for Dottore ever showing up…
Or, it would finally force him into action.
It was a risky gamble—one that you weren’t sure if you should take. Dottore was prideful and stubborn and you didn’t know how far it extended. It could blow up in your face, or it could finally get you what you wanted: the upperhand.
You had never been a gambling woman before, but ever since you got to Snezhnaya, you were being put into situations forcing you to change and adapt just so you could survive, so you could bring justice to your father.
You didn’t think you liked the person who you were becoming, but you didn’t think you had a choice.
You smiled at Pantalone, but the smile was as empty as you felt.
“I don’t particularly care what the Doctor feels concerning my relationship with Brighella. Tell him whatever you please, do pass on my regards to the younger segments though.”
“I must say your soulmate truly is a little spitfire, she has proven it time and time again.”
Dottore sighed as he looked up from his vial, heavy eyes focusing on Pantalone as the man slunk into his labs as if he owned them. His smile was tight and his eyes were not in the typical upturn they usually turned up whenever he was amused—whatever you had said to him had severely pissed him off, it nearly made his own lips twitch upward, wondering what exactly you had said to get under his skin so badly.
“And what did she say this time?” Dottore drawled, not even bothering to feign curiosity, placing the vial back down on the burner as he looked up at Pantalone, whose eye twitched at the question.
“It’s about time you stop playing this game with her, Doctor.” Was all Pantalone said in response, observing a failed, burnt test subject disdainfully, poking at it with a long, gloved finger before drawing his gaze back up to Dottore.
“And here I thought you were playing the same game,” Dottore dismissed, although he would beg to differ that it was not a game, but the last thing he wanted was to get into a battle of semantics with Pantalone. “Was that not why you’ve been loitering around my labs this past week?”
“Yes, I was,” Pantalone agreed, but there was an edge to his voice that made Dottore suspicious, “and it backfired. A certain snake rose from the grasses to take advantage.”
“Hm?” Dottore tilted his head to the side, red eyes narrowing as Pantalone’s words registered.
“Now is not the time for your stubbornness, Doctor,” the banker warned. “Continue to disregard her and she will turn to someone else… or I suppose, she already has. I caught her acting rather intimately with the Friar in her quarters just before I came here.”
Dottore’s lips flattened and his eyes went cold, Pantalone caught the physical reaction, eyebrows shooting upward, mockingly. But Pantalone could only see the physical reaction, he could not feel how Dottore’s blood somehow felt like it was burning and freezing at the same time, he could not see how his vision tunneled and he could not hear how his ears were ringing.
Intimately?
There it was again—that prideful and possessive feeling rearing its ugly head. You were his, only by fate and by chance, but you were his nonetheless, even if he was loathe to admit it. He ignored the hypocrisy of his thoughts, you were his and yet he had ignored you for over a week? He was laying claim to you after all of his denial and anger?
He had been doing what was right, separating himself from you to prevent the bond from getting any stronger. He wasn’t playing the same game that Pantalone was, isolating you to try to make you more malleable to his requests when he finally came back around; Dottore did not play games, not with anyone, much less with you.
But was he okay with you turning your attention elsewhere with his absence?
No. No, he was not. The thought filled him with an emotion he hadn’t felt in over four hundred years, not since his years as a Fatui recruit before he’d learned to separate himself from his emotions.
“She asked for me to pass on my regards to the younger segments.” Pantalone smiled as he spoke, knowing that the words were bound to set Dottore off even more because how dare you send your regards to the children as you let another man into your quarters. “I’ll be heading to my office now. I have some paperwork to finish filling out. Do think on what I said, I expected a branch of the Northland Bank in Fontaine to come out of this arrangement. If it does not, you will have to make up for it.”
“Your expectations are not my responsibility,” Dottore said, voice clipped and icy and far more strained than he meant for it to be.
Pantalone only let out a huff of laughter as he spun on his heel, shooting Dottore one last long look that had Dottore’s body begging for violence as a response. Nearly twenty years of him being forced into a corner because of you, and it was only getting worse.
“It is in this situation,” he said as he made his way out of the lab as quickly as he had come, leaving Dottore there alone with raging thoughts and turbulent emotions.
The Friar.
Brighella.
Lip curled up in a type of rage he hadn’t felt in a long, long time, he finished putting his equipment away and reached for his mask, intent on heading to your quarters himself to understand just what was going on between you and the Tenth.
It was the first time you’d been in Snezhnaya where there hadn’t been a storm battering the night. Once the Regrator had left you to your business, and you were finally able to finish getting ready for bed, you curled up at the window nook to look outside, where the air was still bitter and cold but the harsh winds had subsided and the moon was reflecting prettily over the frozen lake north of the palace.
It looked calm and peaceful—you thought there was a beauty to Snezhnaya that was unique. The Hydro Archon and her acolytes liked to frame the nation as one big frozen wasteland but the more time you spent there, the more you realized that it was just not true. It was frozen, yes, but there were towering trees and massive lakes, the snow sparkled beneath the sun and moon in a way you’d never seen before.
You pressed the pad of your finger against the glass, a longing feeling sweeping over you as your eyes focused on the line of trees on the opposite side of the frozen lake. You thought that this might be your chance—the storms had subsided, you could make a break for it, but you knew deep down that the lack of storm was a deception you couldn’t afford to fall for. Just because the winds had died and the snow and ice had stopped falling, it didn’t mean that it was safe enough to travel through. You would still freeze. Perhaps if you had a pyro vision, it would be different but your hydro vision would do nothing to protect you against the cold.
You sighed, laying your forehead against the window and letting the chilly feeling spread through you, a stark contrast from the warmth of the fireplace emanating throughout your room.
You wondered if you made a mistake. You had antagonized Pantalone, and he had likely antagonized Dottore on your behalf. It had felt good in the moment—a sharp jab that relieved some of the heavy pressure that isolation had put on you, but now the pressure was back and worse than before.
You were not wondering. You knew it had been a mistake.
Even if Brighella had been telling the truth and you held more power than Pantalone was leading you to believe, you couldn’t afford to isolate yourself from the option he presented. Dottore clearly trusted him enough to trust him with you, which you thought was about the biggest show of trust anyone could get from the Second.
And neither of them trusted Brighella.
Your pride and anger had gotten the best of you—they had gotten the best of you when you had thought you had been in control. You laid everything out logically, convinced yourself that the option Brighella posed was just as appealing as Pantalone, forgetting that at the very least, Dottore and Pantalone were known threats to you. That yes, Pantalone wanted to use you and Dottore wanted nothing to do with you, but neither of them would risk your safety. Brighella was an unknown, just a charming and manipulative one that knew precisely when and how to strike.
You weren’t cut out for this. You let your eyes slide shut as you tried to force away the tears building in them. Frustration, anger, desperation, they were all becoming too much for you to handle. You didn’t know what to do. If Brighella was telling the truth, he really was the key to getting what you want, but you couldn’t trust him, you didn’t know what his motives were. Behind the pretty eyes and glittering smile was a snake with venomous fangs that could clamp down at any moment.
You thought the courts of Fontaine had prepared you for this but the Snezhnayan court and the heart of the Fatui was a beast that you were not equipped to deal with. The courts of Fontaine were a beast, you would never think otherwise, but you’d been foolish enough to let yourself believe that they were similar enough to Snezhnaya’s that you’d be able to handle it.
In Fontaine, your name had power and words were as sharp and lethal as daggers—as long as you put on a pretty mask and an entertaining performance, you would survive, but the aristocrats and observers of justice would eat alive anyone who could not put on a convincing and beguiling show.
In Snezhnaya, your name meant nothing and the only coat of protection you could place over yourself was Dottore’s position in the Fatui, and his forced bond to you. Your mask was shattering the longer you were stuck in the cold, and the entertaining performances you were so adept at putting on were becoming more pathetic than anything else. Danger lurked around every corner, not even just those who wanted to kill you as a means to weaken the Doctor, but also those who hated you for the country you come from. You had seen the way one of the Harbingers had looked at you during the event, and having even one Harbinger against you meant that you had hundreds of subordinates out for your throat to try to gain her approval.
You were well beyond your depth. A vast ocean all around you and the currents were dragging you under, water filling your lungs as you tried to thrash your way back to the surface but there was an anchor chained to your ankle that you simply couldn’t fight against.
You took in a deep, shuddered breath. You thought back to the old prophecy, the one that whispered that one day Fontaine and all of its citizens would be washed away by the rising waters, drowned by that which is supposed to protect them, finding their eternal rest in the sands until they became one with the sea.
Sometimes you wondered if it was a literal or metaphorical fate, you had always taken it as literal and dismissed it as an old wives’ tale, but now you were questioning everything you held as true: you felt like you were drowning, your identity dissolving as the water closed in around you, and you felt helpless to it, just like how the ancient prophecy threatened.
Finally, you raised your head and looked back outside, eyes widening when you caught sight of a figure standing in the frame of your door through the reflection of the window, tall and imposing. You hadn’t even heard the door open. Even with the mask, you could feel the coldness behind his gaze.
He only spoke one word:
“Come.”
reblogs appreciated!
Bringing back this meme with dottolone
the fatui harbingers vs twitter but its only three of them cause I made this before winter night's lazzo
as sure as the plants that cherish the sun (masterlist)
a genshin impact x reader soulmate au series
Soulmates are said to exist in all manner of forms. The way we find ours in this world isn’t always easy, but what if fate was a little more obvious with its choices? What if there were things set in stone to tell you who your soulmate is - and all you have to do is go out there and find them? A word of caution, though. The fates still work in strange and mysterious ways, your soulmate will not always be who you expect them to.
[genshin masterlist]
fics will be linked when they’re posted! additional notes are under the cut 💜
be careful, he’ll steal your heart - childe - same fingerprints au
In a world where everyone has the same set of fingerprints as their soulmate, you’ve drawn the short straw. It just so happens that your soulmate is a master criminal who has never once been caught, and you keep getting the blame for his actions all because you’re on the system from a silly misdemeanour as a teen.
incomprehensibly bound to you - diluc - red string of fate au
As a Fatui agent looking to go rogue, the only thing that could possibly mess up your plans would be outside interference. As (bad) luck would have it, a stranger from across the continent has shown up in Snezhnaya… and the end of the string tied around your pinky finger is looped and tied in a neat little bow around his.
stop eating spiders, please i’m begging you - albedo - shared senses au
Your friends tell you that their soulmate loves chocolate, or lives near a flower shop. They have some clumsy moments, but they’re all otherwise relishing in the sensations that come with sharing their soulmate’s senses. Your soulmate is clearly a psychopath, as he delights in eating the strangest things and you’re made to smell the most awful chemicals every single day.
on the outside - tighnari - bodyswap au
Living in Inazuma during the height of the Sakoku Decree’s enforcement leaves you yearning for a taste of the world beyond the seas. Even the soulmates of the people you know all live in Inazuma too, perhaps some twisted way of fate aligning with the will of the archons. That is, until the first day that you wake up in your soulmate’s body- deep in the heart of the Sumeru forests.
cruel mark of fate - dottore - soulmarks au
You hate the insufferable doctor that lives across the hall from you. He’s selfish, obstinate and teases you far too much. So when you find out one day by chance that he’s your soulmate, you start looking for ways to defy your own fate. Unfortunately for you, fate can’t be persuaded that easily. And you suppose he’s not that bad when you get to know him.
rinse, die and repeat - kaeya - timeloop au
When you come close to meeting your soulmate, you’re thrown into a timeloop- doomed to repeat the same day endlessly unless you finally cross paths. You’ve got your work cut out for you when you realise that the soulmate you’re trying to meet is the same man you see on the news every evening who was killed in action trying to save someone else.
pen and paper would be an improvement - kazuha - writing on skin au
Anything your soulmate writes on their skin will show up on your own body within moments. You’ve been blessed with an incredibly poetic soulmate who scribbles down haikus when there’s no paper to hand, warming your heart every time you see them… but he never responds to you. Looks like you’ll have to find him the hard way.
if i have to keep losing pens to find you, i will - ayato - lost items au
Whenever you lose something, your soulmate inexplicably ends up with it. This has been incredibly fortunate for you, whose mysterious soulmate appears to be filthy rich- if all of the jewel-encrusted gold pens and other miscellaneous knick-knacks you end up with are anything to go by. You can only hope that he likes the little wooden trinkets and paraphernalia that he gets in return.
Keep reading
— Второй Предвестник прекрасно проявляет свою изобретательность в разной деятельности. Любит пиццу, коктейли и интересных людей..
Chouji's Sky
Short story about Chouji with the Fatui
Trigger Warning: DOTTORE , aka abuse, torture, needles, needle marks
yes he's a wholeass trigger warning 💀 things go downhill so fast whenever this guy is involved 😭
Chouji is only 8-9 years old here
This is just my headcanon linking Tatarigami, Delusions, and the Abyss, so take this with a boatload of salt LOL
Not sure if they are mentioned in the game, I haven't had time to really play the game lately so lmk if there are lore crumbs about them!
And thats how Chouji becomes a HoH operative in the dangoverse! And yes Arle's flame did burn off some of his memories. He knows he has a mother, but he doesn't remember her at all 👁️👄👁️
And it circles back to my Camus comic hehe
![(Unfair) Justice [part 6 - end]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4e5df2aa767e99a2b272ce36d3f7d2f8/a87e59a1ea82971c-3c/s1280x1920/792987fc4267f2f666d9a9b388face0066f19196.jpg)