ALL IS FAIR IN PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE

𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒.

FATEDEVOUR ; a selective portrayal of IL DOTTORE from genshin impact, with experiments overseen by Brittney (she/her , 25+ ) first beginning in 2022 and revitalized in 2025, with a heavy reliance on the 2022/2023 era and extensive headcanons but DOES run canon parallel and flexible to portrayals. CAUTION IS ADVISED GIVEN THE NATURE OF THIS CHARACTER ; there will be extensive discussions of human and animal experimentation, malpractice, manipulation, violence, murder, and other similar topics.

♢  — @gunnhildred said: It’s funny how easily he had come to live rent free in that blonde crowned skull. How much she had fretted and sweated over the perceived slight of having questioned his skills and dented his pride. She hadn’t meant to, of course, yet the sting of the blow had still remained. Gnawing at her. Ss if he might now forever hold a grudge if she didn’t seek to admit her folly. And so it came to be, how Jean now stood across from Dottore in the dim, quiet corner of his study, her posture impeccable, her hands folded behind her back. ❝It appears I may have misspoken, when I failed to appreciate the nuance and extent of your surgical skills. ❞I was wrong. She is telling him, in as prideful a manner as she can. A white flag of surrender now poised to try and keep this tentative and otherwise puzzling connection from fracturing before her eyes.  ❝So I’ve brought you something to maintain the diplomatic equilibrium,❞ Jean said, her voice entirely even. A peace offering. ❝And a recognition of the date.❞ She always knew just how to bait his curiosity—and get that sharp, dangerous intellect—so very piqued.  Her hand extends to him a wooden box.  Yet as the lid gave way, the rich, bitter scent of dark chocolate filled the space between them. This wasn’t just any chocolate however, no, beneath the rich scent of cocoa there lingered an unmistakable undercurrent: a faint, aromatic sweetness of crushed Cecilia petals, expertly infused into the blend. It was a flawless, deliberate answer to the heavy Sumeru spices he had once shared with her when she was dead on her feet. For a fraction of a second, while the Harbinger was entirely focused on analyzing the offering, the knight took her leave to launch a counter-attack he never saw coming. Jean stepped into his space, fluid and fast as a Gale Blade. Before his Fatui reflexes could override his surprise, she leaned in. Her hand lightly brushed the lapel of his coat, her thumb catching the edge of his collar as she pressed a firm, lingering kiss right to the exposed skin of his jawline, just beneath the edge of his mask. It lasted only a heartbeat, but it was deliberate. Jean stepped back before he could even raise a hand or utter a syllable, his posture entirely frozen in sheer, unadulterated shock. Without missing a beat, Jean seamlessly retreated, an errant palm smoothing down the front of her uniform, as she kept her expression as calm and professional as if she were delivering a speech at the plaza. ❝The paperwork for your next Fatui cargo convoy has been approved and left with the front desk," Jean said, her tone utterly mundane, though a tiny, rare spark of triumph danced in her eyes. ❝Try not to overindulge with the peace offering, Doctor. It still carries a fair bite. ❞ Happy World Chocolate Day.  EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS: UNPROMPTED ASKS - ALWAYS ACCEPTING !

Papers rustle within his grasp as The Doctor flips through them, perusing their contents for what is of greatest interest to him. Updates, requests, the usual dull necessities of foreign work. He would address them in due time, but a rather sour mood leads to favoring what has his INTEREST. Or at least whatever happens to bore him the least. The dusk hours are more favorable to the more dull work for him, when the sun it setting and the skies are bleeding in hues of oranges and red, the dark blue of the night starting to encroach. He hardly bothers with lighting given the windows, at least not beyond that which emits from his accessories and a small lamp. He doesn't expect company.

Dottore's cheek is propped up against his chin in a picture-perfect replication of a bored participant as he lowers the papers in hand when the door opens to reveal none other than the grandmaster come to pay him a visit. No one will find Albert, he's ensured that much, so it cannot be that. And he hardly thinks anything he has done in the last couple days warrants intervention. ( Albeit it remains a truth that he rarely sees why people intervene when they do. ) " Grandmaster. " A cordial greeting offered as he sits up straighter but does not rise from where he sits.

He says nothing. So that was what this was about. " You are not the first. You will not be the last. " The reply is flat and lifeless, offering no insight to how he might be taking the offered words. MAY. An acknowledged possibility. He's familiar with that particular game, though he believes hers to be far more sincere than the utterances made by others, DRUNK ON FALSE SUPERIORITY.

Unfortunately for him, her next words entice flickers of curiosity to spark amongst kindling. A gift? Under guise of diplomatic necessity, there is no avoiding what is said in more eloquent speech. It appears her stiff posture and hands behind her back were not merely for appearance sake. Dottore cranes his head not unlike the birds in the sky when encountering something new that has their interest. The chair glides back quietly as he rises to make acceptance of the gift easier. Something sweet but bitter fills the air as he accepts it. UNEXPECTED yet all the more enticing for that fact until the lid slides back to reveal the contents.

Chocolate? " How unexpected. " And yet the tone he speaks with that was previously coolly detached now contains more liveliness indicative of his pleased acceptance. It's not just any chocolate either. There's something sweeter, intangible and distinctly unique to Mondstadt about the aroma it gives off that urges him to take a bite. The formal stiffness in his shoulders relaxes in the wake of the offering. Quite a lot of it too. Certainly far more generous than strictly necessary. It is amongst these thoughts that he abruptly finds her far closer the seconds ago.

Close enough to grip his coat, for a thumb to graze over the soft leather of the collar, close enough that he can feel lips press to his skin. Not by accident or misstep, an overcalculation - but all this DELIBERATE. And well played on her part, to have his hands be preoccupied. ( In combat it would achieve nothing, but here and now it does everything to keep his reactions restrained. )

His muscles do not know what to do, sympathetic nervous system caught not in fight or flight but FREEZE. It is not something even he can control. THE AMYGDALA REACTS FASTER THAN THE RATIONAL PREFRONTAL CORTEX AND DICTATES INITIAL RESPONSE. No matter how he might will for a response, his body answers with undisguised shock. An incoherent noises manages to drag itself past his sharp teeth when his brain finally decides to attempt a response.

Beneath his mask, red eyes are blown wide as he stares at her. BOLD DOES NOT BEGIN TO COVER AN ACCURATE DESCRIPTION.

" You - I - Paperwork? " Uncharacteristically, the second stumbles over his words and seems to struggle following along with the conversation, the whiplash between scenarios leaving his brain scrambling. He can handle a flurry of scientific ideas with unchallenged grace. This ? He's left like a newborn foal trying to run on wobbly legs. Quite frankly, how is he supposed to care about the dull nuances of paperwork when she pressed a kiss to his skin? Not inflicting pain like a part of him always suspects of one trying to close distance, but something far gentler and far louder than violence.

♢  — @bogachs said: From behind, he tightly embraces Prime without a word, resting his head on his back. (he deserves a hug 🥺) EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS: UNPROMPTED ASKS INSPIRED BY DARE TO HUG THE DOCTOR

There lingers a poignant silence in the lab that continues to feel TOO UNNATURAL underneath the reassuringly familiar hum of machinery and lighting. There is no denial to the self-acknowledged fact that, on occasion, the quiet is nice. No longer is Dottore subjected to his own squabbling or fighting, manifestations of inner conflict made external by way of the segments. But there are other times when it does not settle as comfortably. When he's still too aware of all the pieces and fragments of himself figuring out how to fit back together again after being removed and allowed their own experiences. It is not just the original's lifetime and Prime's lifetimes reuniting, but a merging of CENTURIES of different segments experiences. It would seem that the original had finally understood himself well enough at the end of his life to know which segment would prevail, for Prime's personality by in large remained the dominant, yet there were traces of the others now settling into place. ( Delta's more silken speech in meetings, Gamma's calmer demeanor extending Prime's own, the list went on when one knew the segments unique habits and details to look for as they settled into place. ) Rather than reflect upon the silence or settling of pieces, Dottore does what every Dottore has always done best. HE THROWS HIMSELF INTO HIS WORK. Into the familiar comfort of where he has always thrived best.

Dottore's signature overcoat and harnesses lies draped over the back over the back of a chair like shed snakeskin, his mask resting on the steel table in front of it. Thought the sight of his subordinates is more common than it once was, tonight it is him and him alone after he'd dismissed them all earlier. Thankfully. ILLOGICALLY. He should see about having more of them present in the upcoming nights to increase productivity to meet the deadlines. But in the moment, it is him alone, standing in front of a large whiteboard his his eyes narrowed in concentration. Something needs adjusting in the formula, it was merely a matter of deciding what aspect to alter first to test for the desired effects. Rather than offering comfort or peace, the silence offers only annoyance.

He does not budge when the door to his lab hisses open nor for the footsteps that click against the ground - though the mystery of whether it was because he didn't notice through the depths of his concentration or because he was confident in who it was that was bold enough to tread in his domain was impossible to determine. ( He knows ; for there are few bold enough but there are only three others who are able to access his lab when it is otherwise locked. Not that the other two ever utilize it when it is they who summon him. ) A frown tugs at the corner of his lips and he parts them to speak aloud for the first time in hours, a breath inhaled only to be cut off when he feels the arms embracing him.

The hold is not anywhere near strong enough to be physically capable of cutting off his breath; it gets lodged in his throat all the same. Warmth bleeds through where Pantalone is pressed against him, arms secured around his waist and head resting against the back of blue fabric, easily avoiding the strips of black leather that make the undermost harness. The naturally chilled air of the lab makes the warmth all the more apparent - effectively monopolizing his attention in a method oh so fitting for the businessman that evokes it. It does not stop the rattle of surprise his chest or the sensation that is crawling up his throat to suddenly, finally, have another presence beside himself in the singular. It does not matter that he regularly keeps Vincent snared in his own grasp in the morning. IT IS ONE THING TO GIVE (OR TAKE) AND ANOTHER TO RECEIVE. The familiar scent of mist flower and one of Fontaine's cologne's invades his senses, welcomingly familiar in the ache that he will never confess to nor acknowledge. His shoulders relax, muscles audibly popping with the tension the movement releases as he allows for his body to sink backwards into the warm embrace. His eyes slip close, allowing a brief reprieve from the numbers and letters he's been obsessing over.

" Did your meetings run short, or did I lose track of time? " Dottore speaks as a distraction, though whether for himself, for Vincent, or for both remains unclear. Both have a statistically high probability. Technically speaking, both could be possible as well. It does not matter so much as the way it diverts attention away from the part of Dottore that wants to sink against a warmth that is not devouring flames. They are both greedy men who have hurt one another. It does not stop this from being the closest to safe that Dottore knows. WHAT A TERRIFYING THOUGHT. ( Even if, ultimately, they both know full well none of this will not dampen his ambitions - proof given in multitudes in past actions. )

♢  — @mlodic said: The little Chi was certainly one of the most interesting ones to follow. He brought a more... pure sensation, one that Columbina had rarely seen during her whole existence in contact with humans. That combined with the intensity of his personality ended being a very interesting combo in her eyes. This one night in which she's been carrying one of his books (one too complicated for her to understand- did children really have the habit of reading such weird texts?), Columbina decided to lower the lights and pull Chi down in a hug while sitting in the floor, holding both him and the book telling the story of a tragedy in Sumeru. ' Here, it will be more comfortable if we read like this. Like... a bed time story. ' EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS: UNPROMPTED ASKS INSPIRED BY DARE TO HUG THE DOCTOR

Chi follows alongside Columbina with footsteps nearly as silent as her own. If it had been intentional, perhaps it would be cute. Many people found children trying to copy those around them as a cute or fond sight to witness. But reality is far crueler. His were silent not out of mimicry but of necessity ; or at least a necessity for the original Dottore at this age. HE WAS NOT WELCOMED IN THE EYES OF THE VILLAGE, but even less so his mother. In the days he had to stay away far from her line of sight and any of the other priestesses. Only at night could he sneak back to the house under the cover of darkness, footsteps silent so as not to wake her and send the house into hysterics ; to not hear the wails of despair at a woman punished by her gods in her eyes because she could not accept the child as anything BUT punishment. In those nights he'd hunkered into a corner and tried to ignore it while his father soothed his mother and distracted her ; with age he opted to escape back outside when it might occur - rarely from too loud of steps and moreso the occasion she might not have fallen asleep first. It had not taken him long to learn to quiet his steps so he might sleep inside, and the rare slip up was often a result of something new being added to the environment or moved that he had no way of knowing about. If he was lucky, his mother would temporarily forget about his existence and his father played it off as an animal in the house that he would see to, allowing Dottore to continue to the side room while his father pretended to handle an animal and his mother remained in her bed. At least until Dottore had begun to prefer shelter elsewhere, in nearby ruins he explored or abandoned abodes. Even then, it had taken many years for Dottore to learn he could make his presence known. But Chi was eternally stagnant in the period of requirement and thus never would.

Chi watches, curious, when they've stopped in their usual spot - amongst plush cushions and pillows yet Columbina continues to move. And it's not like Chi can simply sit down and start when she has his book. That might have been a mistake on his part - but it was heavy and she seemed to have wanted to. He does not demand it either ; red eyes merely track her as she dims the lights in the room. Not too dark, he will still be able to read, but it gives wraps the room in a cozier feeling when paired with the fireplace and the crackle of fire.. The darkness feels a bit safer, and Columbina settles herself on the usual spot with the book. THIS IS NEW, BUT NOT UNPLEASANT.

It is only when she pulls him that Chi gives a quiet gasp of stunned surprise. He is lightweight, offering no resistance other than a startled " H-Hey! " that holds no bite. Instinct tells him to bolt like a trapped animal, but there is no where to go in her hold and with the book weighed down on his lap. What is she doing? Did he do something? Is she mad? Maybe Prime was right and he -

It is only the third's voice that stops the youngest segment's thoughts. " .... A bed time story ? "

Chi knows what they are of course. He's seen kids with their mothers and fathers, tucked in to bed and being lulled to sleep with childish stories. Once upon a time his father had sat with him, but the stories had been educational, not fantasy (at his own request). He thinks that stopped some point after what Chi knows to be his first dissection, but the original Dottore had simply seen it as an act of education - an act that had changed how his father started to look at him too. ( Doing so for hunting and cooking was fine, yet to sate curiosity was not? It made no sense. ) But even those few times had never been like this. They had been side by side in firelight, distance between them. Like this, with Columbina, it was different.

It was WARM. Now that the initial internal panic had settled and his small body was tentatively relaxing, he would even say it was . . . nice. Strange, but nice.

♢  — @mlodic said: Reunions were dull. There's nothing of actual interest to the Damselette, nor anything she could actually do for the Fatui, other than... being there. That was her duty. That was her promise. Until the right time came. Delta was one of the very few who actually noticed or even cared to approach her now and then. Whether to satisfy his own curiosity or something else she didn't care for a long, long time. Until now, when he stayed behind with her, after everyone have left already. ' I thought you had work to do. ' like everyone else. But, oh... well, he had his other segments to follow up with that, was that the reason for him to indulge in curiosity? It makes her ponder. Yet, before he can conclude that she wanted no company, Columbina swiftly approached, quietly pulling the Doctor into a tight hug, burying her face into his chest. She wouldn't like to stay alone again... yet. EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS: UNPROMPTED ASKS INSPIRED BY DARE TO HUG THE DOCTOR

Another meeting comes and goes. By all accounts it serves as one of the more TOLERABLE and peaceful meetings by Harbinger standards. Although that may in large part be due to Pierro's dramatic speech that could rival the gilded lectures Pantalone or Pulcinella were capable of delivering. Delta had less so been actively listening to the entirety of the speech and moreso alert to key words or change in speakers where he would assess the contents of the address. It wraps up without too much of note - an activity Dottore suspects it meant to forge weak chains of camaraderie that simply will not exist among the Harbinger ranks. Their truces are for Her Majesty or the profits they could gain and not much else. Maybe. Some people have more conflicts than others ; ambitions that will crush those in opposition.

" I always do. " Delta confirms, though there lies a heavier emphasis on the word I - a signature habit that all the segments do when speaking of I as in Dottore as a whole rather than the INDIVIDUAL SEGMENT. Dottore does. DELTA may or may not, a fact that can only be revealed by his own decisions. " I have a meeting with Pulcinella in about two hours. It's not worth trying to resume my projects until afterwards. " He doubts that the third truly cares for the details of the matter. Perhaps she simply wishes for him to MAKE HIS PRESENCE SCARCE like so many of their colleagues would prefer? It falls in line with what he would expect. " Already so eager to be rid of me? It hasn't even been a couple minutes. " The corner of his lip lifts ever so slightly - a smile not of joy or delight but bitter expectation. She is not the first to wait for his disappearance. She will not be the last. Still, his voice does not change from the lighter tone. " That must be a new reco- "

ABRUPTY, HIS VOICE IS CUT OFF. It is a rare feat to make the second harbinger speechless, yet he is rendered exactly that with a simple act. A slender, small hand that wraps around the thick coat he wears for these meetings and yanks him closer when he otherwise would not move. Such a cold action alone would be enough to stun him, much less the arms that surround him or how she buries herself against his chest without hesitation or fear.

Of all the segments, Delta is the most familiar with physical contact. Yet that too is left sparce, entertained only by gloved handshakes in most cases. Few would dare wish to be close to Dottore, and even Chi at the tender age of eight has long abandoned the idea of physical contact with others - the older segments are even worse off. He can feel the heat seeping from her form to his, how confident her arms are to wrap around his form beneath the coat. He half expects to feel pain, to feel a weapon jabbed into him through muscle and potential organs. DOTTORE KNOWS PAIN WELL AND HANDLES IT ACCORDINGLY. He is already thinking of which segment to contact when he realizes there is no pain.

He does not know what to do with this moment. He does not know what to make of it when Columbina's touch is only gentle, what strength displayed seeking only to keep them connected as if afraid she might be torn away rather than trying to HARM him. SHE WANTS TO BE CLOSE, NOT FAR AWAY. What is he supposed to make of that?

Delta's hands linger in the air with a level of inaction and uncertainty that The Doctor does not typically express ; where they can dissect or heal with certainty, or where they can build blasphemous inventions with confidence, they now hover like hummingbirds darting over flowers. Assessing, contemplating - and finally, they settle loosely around her. Is this right? What a preposterous question. Yet DELTA, nor Dottore, has never been hugged, and it feels unnatural. Is it nice? Do not entertain what is not his to enjoy. Still - he allows his arms to settle around her with a quiet commitment, letting her hold onto him without attempting to pry her off. Slowly, one hand lifts to delicately rest against the back of her head and over fine hair, while his other remains around her.