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underfaller · 6 months

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Chapter 14: ν

Pairing: dottore x angel!reader Summary: You are a Heavenly Messenger from Celestia that’s been captured by a mysterious Doctor CW: None Word count: 3.7k

"Now the moment of truth. Are you ready, my dear?"

"Of course. Let's experiment in blasphemy, Doctor."

Dottore chuckles at your utterance of his own words, a sly grin crawling on his face. You watch closely as he prepares for such a momentous experiment, your wings twitching with anticipation against your back. Even if your head still aches and your left eye remains blind, you wouldn't have missed this for all of Teyvat--not after all the work you and the Doctor have done.

And how eager you are to start. You’re just as excited as he is. That morbid curiosity and desire to spite the divine took hold of your thoughts before you even knew it had.

Yes, you are truly his assistant now.

You observe Dottore set down a multitude of instruments on the table in front of him including a couple of empty vials and a clean syringe.

“What are you doing?” You ask, leaning against the cool, metal table.

“Taking a blood sample," Dottore explains. He reaches for a thin rubber band, wrapping it around his upper arm and using his sharp teeth to tighten it. "Naturally, a clone of mine needs my own DNA.”

You nod before approaching the Doctor. Dottore cocks his head slightly at you. He's wearing his mask today. You're slightly relieved. After all, such a barrier made it hard to read his emotions and as you place a hand on his arm, you can’t help but feel your cheeks grow slightly pink as you say,

“Let me help.”

You quietly readjust the band he so haphazardly tied around himself. He wouldn’t have let you anywhere near him before, but now, he seems grateful for the aid. You raise an eyebrow watching as Dottore sips from a very stained coffee mug.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that now. It will spoil the samples."

Dottore snorts.

"Hmph... caffeine would only affect a trial if I were testing the samples, not for something like this," He states, shortly. "Also how do you even know that, let alone how to do this?"

Dottore turns to frown slightly at you, but there's a hint of amusement in his voice. You give the Doctor a half shrug.

"You've done it a number of times to me before. It's not like I'm completely oblivious," You tell him. You feel a small grin forming on your face as you add, "Also, I read your other experiment journals when I get bored."

"I don't remember giving you permission to read those."

"You did, actually. I just waited until you're hyper focused on your work to ask so you'll say yes without thinking."

"How sly."

You can imagine him narrowing his beady, crimson eyes at you as he always did after the familiar sigh of exasperation he gives. But you know he isn't truly upset. He’d say something if he was-- the Doctor, despite all his secrets, isn’t one to hide his anger. You delicately grab the syringe on the table, the sharp silver tip hovers over the Doctor's exposed skin.

"Now hush and hold still."

You prick him with ease. It’s much easier to stop yourself from shying away from the needle when you aren’t on the receiving end. Almost instantly, scarlet blood oozes from the tapped vein through the attached tube into the vial on the desk. The lab is quiet as you focus on your work before Dottore lets out a small chuckle.

"It's almost unbelievable you're able to execute a task so adequately simply by watching others and reading a few notes,” He muses.

"I am a quick learner.”

When you're finished, you gently take out the needle, bandaging the area tightly so the pressure stops the bleeding. It's surprisingly clean for your first time.

"There. Ha. Ironic it's me poking you this time, huh?"

"Indeed."

Dottore reaches for the now full vials. On the table is a vial of your own blood, intertwined with two realms' energies and collected soon after that previous brutal trial you endured. You don’t like looking at your own blood but you cannot avert your eyes as he carefully fuses it with his own. The two liquids commingle seamlessly until it is impossible to separate them, let alone tell them apart. Perhaps it is the Archon Residue or the Abyssal energy, but when he is finished, the final product is an electric blue, swimming and sparkling against its containment.

It's almost beautiful in a morbid way.

You watch Dottore inject the lifeless doll on the vivisection table with the mixture. Almost instantly, the once still vessel shifts from a blank slate to one that looks exactly like Dottore. On its neck, is a small 4-pointed star on the injection site. You tentatively reach out with a trembling hand and feel the clone's wrist. A pulse. Its chest rises and falls slowly under the thin sheet that covers most of its body. You look at Dottore with wide eyes.

"You...we... did it."

Dottore lifts up his mask, turning to you with a toothy grin.

"Of course we did, little birdie."

"Falling asleep while studying? How quaint."

You jolt awake, sitting up as your heart jumps into your chest upon hearing a sudden voice. You turn to the door only to see the newest face in the lab: Omega. You immediately recognize the doppelganger from the small vial that dangles casually from his ear as he approaches you. You were the one to give it to him at your first introduction, filled with the iridescent, blue liquid that runs through his very veins.

“A book on poisons? I didn’t think you’d be interested in such things,” Omega muses.

Despite his humorous words, Omega doesn’t sound too pleased to see you in the lab. You ignore the slight edge in his voice and the hard gaze that bores into you. His disapproval doesn't bother you. You pursue your lips tightly.

After all, the feeling is mutual.

“Who are you trying to murder, hm?” Omega jokes, setting down a box of supplies he just obtained in a nearby closet and spreading his arms across the desk you were using, leaning forward to smirk at you. He grabs the book from under you, turning its pages, but certainly not reading any of their contents. Even his mannerisms are uncannily identical.

The perfect experiment.

The perfect clone.

You narrow your eyes.

“It shall be you if you don’t stop with these needless questions, Omega.”

“How cold.”

You sigh and lean back in your chair. The fogginess of sleep still plagues your mind-- you'd be lying if you said that your sleep has been anywhere near adequate lately. But with what you were researching, you did not need sleep. You rub your eyes, yawning as you peer at Omega.

“Where is he, by the way? The Doctor?”

Omega closes your book, tossing it back onto the table.

“Downstairs. Prime continues to work ever so diligently on mastering Khemia and the nuances of my makeup.”

Prime. That’s what he calls the Doctor.

“And continue to have you check up on me like a child,” You mutter.

Your complaints are a bit too loud and he clicks his tongue in response.

“You seem discontented despite this being the most expected outcome,” Omega raises an eyebrow. “You of all people must know Prime puts work above all other matters in his busy life.”

“Tch.”

Despite his reprimands, Omega puts a hand on your shoulder with a sweet, sympathetic smile.

How odd.

They are the same, but this “Dottore” was right-handed as opposed to the one you knew.

The one you preferred.

“How sweet. Do you miss him that much? I will be sure to tell Prime.”

“Don’t you dare,” You glare at him. “You’ve meddled in my business enough.”

He chuckles.

“Though with that look you’re giving me, perhaps it is wiser to mind my own.”

Despite the obvious success in Omega’s creation, there’s an unsettlingly still coldness that followed the synthetic lifeform. He is never unkind to you. On the contrary, he treats you with the utmost respect and- in some cases- even softer than the Doctor himself. But though Omega looks and sounds human, there is something eerily unnatural about him. Perhaps it is because you saw him come to life-- you know this man was nothing more than a breathing puppet.

No, it’s something else, something unnerving that makes you wary of this individual like you were of the Doctor when you first arrived here-- As if this doll come to life is somehow a threat to an immortal being such as yourself.

Or perhaps you are merely jealous of him.

Jealousy is such a childish emotion.

Still, you can’t help but feel its tendrils seep into your veins each time you see Omega instead of the real Doctor. You rarely see Dottore nowadays. He holes himself up downstairs, working closely with Omega as his assistant. You offered to help multiple times, but your condition worsened so he confines you to the same floor as your room. He tells you to rest, but your mind is the most unrestful thing in this room. Still, you obey as you always did and let your emotional and perhaps irrational thoughts run wild in the silence. Not even your books can silence what you feel.

The fear of being replaced.

"Do you dislike me?"

Your eye flickers with surprise at the sudden question.

"What?"

"I know you heard the question, darling."

You are quiet for a moment. You look back at Omega. And for a slight, fleeting moment, you wish that experiment had failed. At first, you wish to tell him that. To show your heart on your sleeve, to let your anger run wild.

But you don’t.

"No."

Omega openly laughs at that.

What a familiar yet foreign laugh.

"You are a terrible liar. I see the ways your eye skirts when it lands upon me. The way you quickly excuse yourself when I enter a room. Does my existence bother you so much?"

You scowl at him before quietly standing up. Dizziness clouds your head when you do-- just another damn effect from this unbudging ailment. You fold your arms, gazing upon your adversary with an annoyed expression.

"You're quite talkative today." You say bluntly before waving a hand dismissively. "Perhaps it is uncanny to have another here so much like the Doctor."

Omega cocks his head.

"But you hold him in such high regard. Wouldn't such a similarity be welcomed?"

You shake your head.

“You are too similar. Like you could replace him and not even I would never notice. The uncanniness of it all, the oddness of having two of the same individuals in such proximity-- it is unnerving.”

Omega ponders your words for a moment before shaking his head.

“How interesting,” He remarks before giving you a slight grin. “But a baseless deduction founded upon anxiety. Don't you worry your little head about such things. After all, you’re supposed to be resting.”

With that, Omega ruffles your hair playfully as the Doctor did so often before picking up the box he'd set down and exiting without another word.

And as you continue to sit in the now empty lab, you realize you really did wish it was the Doctor instead of him who'd done so.

"That took quite a bit."

Dottore says as he continues to work. He doesn’t even turn to face Omega, still invested in the various samples and tools laid before him.

"Your assistant was quite chatty,” Omega replies as he sets down a box with a low thump. “It's a wonder you've managed to finish any work with her around."

“Oh? Is she finally warming up to you?”

Omega snorts.

“Wishful thinking. She sees me as her warden more than anything.”

“Well, she must understand it is for her own good. I can’t have her around such chemicals in her state.”

“True, but her emotional immaturity makes her quite childish,” Omega states, crossing his arms as he leans against the table. “She obviously misses you.”

Dottore frowns at that. Deep down, he does feel slightly guilty for neglecting you. However, he is on the precipice of a new invention. He couldn’t simply stop for your whims. You must have understood that, right?

“Though.. it is also obvious that you miss her ,” Omega laughs humorlessly.

Dottore stiffens at that.

"Huh? What a baseless accusation,” Dottore furrows his brow. After a short pause, he strokes his chin. “Well, I suppose I do miss her utility, yes. She is quite an efficient assistant."

" Uh huh. "

Dottore turns towards Omega with narrowed eyes.

"You're bold. Mocking your own creator like that."

Omega smirks.

"Come now. I know that even you have a sense of humor…And are not one to deny such obvious facts."

Am I always this exasperating?

"Do not overthink such things, Omega. Such childishness holds no weight in my mind." Dottore scoffs before gesturing at what lays in front of him. "Now then, shall we continue working or do I have to sew your mouth shut to keep such idiotic things from leaving it?"

“Fine, fine.”

Dottore picks up the messily scrawled documents on the table, gesturing at them.

"As I saw saying, having multiple copies of myself is efficient but we can improve such a feat even more. If we were to create a hive mind of sorts. Share our thoughts, goals, and progress seamlessly-"

"We would be able to achieve more than any scholar with only one lifetime," Omega interrupts. Slight interest flickers in his eyes.

"Exactly."

"I have to say such a proposition is ambitious and will be arduous even for us,” Omega grins. “And meddling with the laws of our lifetime like that is the work of a heretic is it not?"

"Quite so and you approve."

"I do. After all, I am you."

Dottore gives a chuckle at that. He nods at the large freezer in the back of this secondary laboratory.

“Omega, get the sample 7716 in the freezer now. It should be ready.”

“Yes sir.”

It is certainly odd to have another individual identical to himself work beside him, but despite the grievances and annoyances, Dottore revels in such a creation. A successful experiment is already something that made him madly giddy but for that creation to be another set of hands to help him with his own intellect-- well, Dottore can proudly say that this certainly was his magnum opus.

...However, despite his irritation, Omega had been correct. Dottore did miss you as his assistant.

Because no matter how useful his clone is, you are, in his mind, quite irreplaceable.

“Prime, sir, there is something wrong with these samples. I think you’ll need to take a look,” Omega approaches Dottore with a sullen expression.

Dottore groans. For a moment, he wonders if the freezer is broken once more. He admitted that he hadn't been as meticulous with his laboratory upkeep in the recent months. What a pain it would be for everything stored in there to be ruined by mere neglect.

“Augh, fine I’ll look.”

Dottore reluctantly pauses what he's doing and enters the dark, cold room through the slightly ajar door. His breath materializes as thin, white clouds in front of his face and a shiver runs down his spine. After some time, Dottore finds the samples in a clearly marked box in the back. He raises an eyebrow in mild confusion.

These are perfectly fine…

SLAM!

“What the-"

Dottore whips around only to find the freezer door completely shut. He rushes towards it, only to find that it’s been locked. A silhouette shadows over the foggy window on the metal door. The person on the other side slides the window open, a dull expression on his face and no attempt to unlock the door.

No, no, no this is all wrong.

Dottore narrows his eyes.

“Omega, what the hell are you doing?” He asks, dangerously calm.

Omega peers back at Dottore, an almost lazy expression on his face.

"Oh my…." He drawls. "Are you that slow? Hmph…You really are the lesser of us."

No. Dottore realizes what’s happening, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

He is not one to admit he is wrong so easily.

I would not betray myself when our potential is so much stronger together.

This is utterly illogical.

Dottore clenches his fists. He's trying to keep a calm composure-- to not let this anger get the best of him.

But to be betrayed by even myself…

Dottore sighs, rubbing his face. He gazes at Omega, disdain making his skin crawl for the creation he once held so much pride for.

“Tch, what a pity. You were supposed to be perfect. I did all the calculations…" Dottore says with a shake of his head. He rubs his temples. "I expected more from you. How disappointing.”

It's then that Omega breaks out in a fit of mocking laughter.

“Ha. Hahaha!” Omega runs his fingers through his hair, his grin widening as he stares at Dottore. He lifts his head slightly. Omega leans forward, hands clasped behind his back.

"Expect perfection? Of course you would."

Oh, that sickening grin.

His expression suddenly shifts to a cold frown.

"Fear not, you didn't fail-- I know how that gnaws at your feeble mind," Omega crosses his arms. "Even from my short existence, I know that I am perfect. Yes, our abilities are the same-- but I am so much more than you.”

Dottore can feel the freezing temperatures of the storage room seeping into his bones. He bites back a chatter, not wanting to give Omega the satisfaction. His eyes dart around the dimly lit freezer for something he could use to break out of here and demolish this doppelganger.

Keep him talking while you think of an escape.

“Oh, please do explain,” Dottore retorts through clenched teeth.

“Of course, sir ," Omega grin grows even bigger as he looks down condescendingly at his creator.

Dottore did not like to be looked down upon.

This bastard.

"I have all your memories and yet am able to see them objectively like an attendee of the Fontainian theater," Omega continues. He begins to pace back and forth like a caged wolf as he speaks, gesturing with his gloves hands. His red eyes are sadistically wild as he gloats.

"You're incredibly pathetic,” The clone giggles. “So insecure... It's pitiful. Not to mention your gross attachment to your assistant. Even someone of your quality is so utterly, disappointingly…human.”

How could he be so stupid.

Dottore bares his teeth.

"You are nothing but a puppet, mimicking me without any chance of fully encapsulating my greatness," Dottore snarls, poison lacing each of his words. "As for my ‘attachment’ to Y/N... it's a symbiotic relationship that would be illogical to sever prematurely."

"Hmm…'I suppose, Doctor.'" Omega teases, mimicking your voice. He rolls his eyes. "Ah, there's no need to be upset, Prime. It is understandable why you cling so desperately to her. You humans are so eager for even a sliver of acceptance."

Omega examines his own hand made of flesh, sighing.

"It's a shame that you created me to be just like you. Are you so insecure that a version of you cannot even usurp yourself?"

Omega chuckles at Dottore's face etched with rage. He clicks his tongue, pressing a gloved finger against his cheek.

"See, that is exactly why I am superior. I have all your experiences without their mental toll, especially from your more... negative experiences,” He states. Omega leans closer, a slight smile still playing on his lips.

“But isn’t that what you wanted in the end? How many times have you wished to be able to remove such loathsome traits from yourself?” Omega asks, slightly tilting his head before laughing once more, extending his arms wide in front of him.

“Revel in your success, fellow scholar! I am you without those parts you loathe about yourself-- which is quite a lot! After all, under that conceited, egotistic façade is a sad, simple boy that couldn't even convince his village to keep him. Isn't that right, Zandik?"

How could I be so, so stupid.

“When I get out of here, I am going to break you apart piece by piece," Dottore says quietly.

"Ah. Can't deal with your own shortcomings so you're going to put me down like a dog?" Omega sighs once more. "However, that will be incredibly difficult form your position."

Omega clicks his tongue.

"Ah. You've stalled me long enough. Haven't found a way to escape yet? Pity. Where is that cocky ingenuity of yours?" Omega asks. "Or have you emptied your mind for thoughts of your dear little birdie?"

Dottore watches as Omega's slender fingers reach towards his ear, detaching the dangling vial and putting it on the metal surface besides him. He ruffles his already messy hair, masking the pierced lobe beneath his mint blue locks.

"You will regret this," Dottore chokes out.

Omega simply smiles.

“I doubt that,” Omega says. “Now if you'll excuse me, I must deal with the nuisance upstairs. Oh, can you imagine the look on her face? When she feels her dear Doctor's fingers around that slender neck of hers. But it won't be the first time you've strangled your assistant, hm?"

Do not touch her.

I’ll kill you.

I’ll fucking kill you.

Omega laughs manically. Before Dottore can reply, he sharply pulls the lever. The window snaps shut with a loud clunk, signifying its locking. In the pitch black freezer, Dottore can feel the blood rushing in his ears as he breathes heavily.

I have to escape.

But all he can feel is the crushing feeling of failure that leaves him planted in place.

He'd made yet another mistake. How many more failures would litter this path he walked? Despite all his accolations, all his boastful words, the shadow of all his miscalculations loomed over his mind like the ever present figure of death does for regular mortals. The scholar would never admit he was wrong-- But it still ate him up.

Oh, it devoured him.

So as the Doctor cannibalizes himself, the dagger in his back remains dug into his flesh. He was never one to trust others. Trust is a weakness like kindness and other human follies. He only needs his own mind.

And yet, even that is wrong.

Dottore feels his hands tremble. Is he angry? No, it's so much more. He knows screaming won't help him, but Dottore bottles all his anger and frustrations and places them on a shelf in his mind. How fragile that shelf is and as it collapses, Dottore presses his hands against the rapidly frosting glass, screaming curse after curse.

#fic: dead doves do not mourn #genshin fanfic #dottore #genshin x reader #dottore x fem!reader #il dottore

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underfaller · 7 months

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Chapter 13: μ (pt. 2)

Pairing: dottore x angel!reader Summary: You are a Heavenly Messenger from Celestia that’s been captured by a mysterious Doctor CW: Violence Word count: 1.8k

“You shouldn’t be up in your state.”

You don’t reply. Your back is turned against the Doctor as you stand in the middle of the room, slouching a bit as you pant heavily. The empty training room is as cold as the rest of the lab but a bead of sweat slides down your forehead. There is a slight buzzing sound in the still air.

Is it from the lights overhead or your own head?

You look ahead, refusing to turn towards Dottore. You can feel hot frustration quickly rise in you when you see how badly you’ve missed the target in front of you-- the same target you’d hit with ease only a few weeks ago. You clench your now empty, outstretched fingers into a tight ball.

How pathetic.

“Must you always be so impatient? My dear, you aren’t going to get any better if you keep pushing yourself like this.”

Dottore saunters in front of you, delicately reaching towards the new eyepatch over your left eye. You sharply brush his hand away, glowering. He only smiles at your annoyance. It is the same gentle, simpering smile he’s given you before--the one factor that doesn’t seem to change no matter what awful events unfold unto you.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I have already explained that your perception will be off with your new…condition,” Dottore says, crossing his arms.

“And who’s fault is that?” You snap.

You bite the inside of your lip, a bit surprised at your own outburst before you sigh, defeated.

You don't know why you are so upset. Is it anger? Sadness? Are you angry at Dottore-- or yourself? You can’t tell. Perhaps it’s the side effects of the Archon Residue weighing on your psyche. Dottore warned that you would feel unwell for some time, but you, stubborn as ever, denied those facts and refused to rest despite the obvious merit behind his words-- a childish, fruitless attempt to regain some sort of control over your life.

“You promised that you wouldn’t fail, Doctor.”

Dottore cocks his head.

“The experiment was a success.”

“Do you call what happened to me a success?”

When you woke up the morning after the experiment, you felt your heart sink in horror. You sat up straight and stumbled to the bathroom. Your head was in pain as your body tried desperately to keep up with the commands of your terrified mind. You didn’t know what you thought looking at yourself in the mirror would do. Inspecting the damage wouldn’t fix it. But as you peered at the murky, discolored mud that swam in your left iris, you quickly realized why you woke up blind in one eye.

And though you are immortal, for some unknown reason, your condition refuses to improve like your previous ailments. Even now, almost a full week after your realization, you show no signs of healing.

“How interesting,” Dottore said, setting down the syringe. Even a healing serum proved no avail, much to your dismay. “Perhaps it is because Archon Residue is also derived from divinity-- not so unsimilar to what was used to create you in the first place. Only further observation will tell.”

Interesting is not the word you’d use.

“Come now, even with one eye you should be able to see the bigger picture here. We’ve come one step closer to creating life. That alone should warrant success,” Dottore waves his hand in dismissal. “Besides, this isn’t the first time you’ve lost the use of one of your oculus.”

Even with one eye, you are still able to glare at the Doctor. He only grins slightly in response. Despite your emotional and physical turmoil, Dottore is almost doting, taking care of you as you remain out of commission. You find it hard to believe his actions are entirely out of pure care for you-- You wonder if it’s out of pity.

You did not like to be pitied.

"Do you still take pleasure in my suffering?”

“My dear, paranoid little birdie. You know that I do not. You agreed to the procedure knowing the risks, your anger is misplaced,” Dottore answers.

Dottore places a hand on your shoulder.

“We are past purposeless suffering. Besides, this is more of a burden to me than anything. Because of your unprecedented mishap, I’ve had to pause what is going to be my crowning research.”

You look up at him.

“You can continue the project without me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Tch.

Dottore ruffles your hair as he looks down at you. You can tell, despite his coldness, that this is his awkward way of consoling you. You should appreciate it. And maybe you did, deep down in the recesses of your heart. However, as you found yourself becoming closer to the Doctor, you still couldn’t truly accept such a predicament. After every skip of your heart, every sincere smile you give him, every candid laugh you couldn’t help but let out after hearing one of his dark jokes is a shadow of uneasy shame that always follows. You truly didn’t understand these feelings so you tried to push him away in retaliation for the uncomfortable . The idea of being close to someone like the Doctor is still absolutely unthinkable despite knowing full well that you will remain close to him all the same.

“Now, let’s get you back to your room before you overexert yourself once again,” Dottore tells you.

You sigh once more.

“You treat me like a child, Doctor. I’m-”

It’s then that you take a step and stumble a bit, your wings fluttering in momentary panic. Dottore quickly grabs you by the arm, helping steady you. You make a small noise of irritation when you see his skeptical, yet smug look. You pull yourself from him, shaking your head.

“I don’t need your help; I’m just fine.”

Dottore clicks his tongue.

“Oh, don’t be like that, my dear. There is nothing wrong with accepting help when you’re unwell.”

With that, Dottore scoops you up, lifting you in his arms bridal style in one swift motion, ignoring your indignant protests. His hold on you is ironclad-- It was best to accept that you were to be carried back.

You peer at his face. From this angle you can see under that sharp mask of his and you watch his eyes as he looks forward, not noticing your gaze. You look away.

What is this?

“You do not have to fuss over me so much,” You say.

“Nonsense. You are my assistant and a crucial component to my research at the moment. ‘Fussing’ is necessary at this moment.”

What is he?

“And yet, I sometimes think you see me more as an object more than anything else.”

What am I?

“Is that so bad? After all, only objects can be treasured.”

You give a wry laugh.

Dottore soon approaches your room, opening the door with a soft creak. He lets you down gently on your bed.

“There. Was that really so difficult?” He asks.

You sit up, your hands pressed against the soft fabric of your bedsheets.

“I just want to get better and resume our work,” You dissent. “I can’t just lie here doing nothing.”

“Do you need more books to read?”

You peer at the stack on your nightstand. There are multiple bookmarks between each books’ dusty pages. At least in your bedridden state, you’ve found solace in the reading material brought by Dottore. He is surprisingly willing to loan his books to you now-- a juxtaposition from your first request. You shake your head. “Your impatience is showing once more,” Dottore notes. He strides to the nightstand where a small glass jar filled with red coloured capsules sits. The Doctor picks it up, gently shaking it before eyeing you.

“You didn’t take this morning’s dose. Care to explain?”

“I must have forgotten.” You fidget sheepishly.

You know that under that mask is a look of scrutiny. You can practically feel his eyes bearing holes through you.

“And how do you expect to improve without taking the proper actions to do so?”

You bow your head.

“My apologies Doctor.”

He seems to care more about my health than I do, sometimes.

Dottore simply places one of the capsules into your hand. You study the small pill for a moment.

“What is it, my dear?”

You hesitate. You’ve taken this medication twice a day for almost seven straight days, but at this moment, you can feel the weight of suspicion in your stomach.

“What even is this, by the way?”

Dottore sits beside you.

“Mendax. I’ve already explained to you before that it’s a drug I concocted in preparation for my studies with Archon Residue to combat its secondary effects.”

Then why am I not getting better?

You don’t doubt his abilities to create such a treatment. You know he’s a genius.

“But what’s in it?”

“A little of this and that. Why the sudden curiosity?” Dottore laughs. “You shouldn’t worry so much when you’re sick-- it’s unhealthy.”

“I-”

"Ah. Do you still not trust me? After all we’ve been through? Hmph…" Dottore interjects, his voice hinting at his obvious offense to your prodding.

Dottore shakes his head, frowning.

"And after we had such a lovely conversation about trust too. How unfortunate."

"That's not-" You start. You furrow your eyebrows as you fold your arms. "You are jumping to conclusions, Doctor."

Then what exactly am I doubting?

You find it ironic. You let the Doctor hold your life in his hands yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to trust him.

"All leaves stemming from the same branch, my dear," Dottore muses.

A moment of silence.

"Though it was quite nice, wasn't it?" He murmurs.

You glance at him.

"What was?"

"Our time in Liyue."

How quickly things change.

If memories could be re-lived forever…

"Yes," You reply, thinking wistfully back to your little adventure. However, you will not be swayed so easily by kind memories. You narrow your eyes.

“You are changing the subject. That has nothing to do with the conversation at hand.”

"Ah, am I not allowed to reminisce? You forget your place, my dear,” Dottore says, obviously ignoring your admonitions. “If I remember correctly, you quite confidently proclaimed that you ‘would not betray me’.”

He plucks the pill out of your palm, holding it in front of your nose. Your good eye rests on it.

“But in order to do that, I need your trust first and foremost, don’t I? It’s only logical.”

Before you can reply, he pops the small capsule in his mouth.

“What are you-”

Your words are cut off as his lips crash into yours. Your eyes widen from shock and your first instinct is to shrink away, but as Dottore threads his hand through your hair, cupping your face with the other, you find your eyelids fluttering shut.

What are we?

It’s then you feel his tongue slide into your mouth, pressing your medication against the back of your own tongue.

You swallow it.

Only further observation will tell.

Dottore relishes you a bit more before pulling back, that toothy grin on his lips coupled with a speck of your saliva.

“So will you trust me?” He asks.

He already knows your answer.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Past chapters here

#fic: dead doves do not mourn #dottore #genshin fanfic #dottore x fem!reader #il dottore #genshin x reader #dottore x reader

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