Your Typical infj

He has a basic understanding of medicine, but he's not the type of doctor that particularly cares about his patients. It's amazing he hasn't already been arrested considering he's the type of doctor to diagnose a patient with stage four cancer from a mere cough that was obviously just from a simple fever. When someone complains of backaches, Dottore is most likely to prescribe them insulin, which is generally prescribed for diabetics, and dismiss them whenever they inquire as to why the drug isn't working.

There is nothing more to playing doctor than a trifling amusement, a way to pastime.

Or so he thought.

As a new patient, you were required to meet him for a "meet and greet," which he obviously didn't want to do, but was forced to do by Pierro's persistent demands on managing the business properly to avoid suspicion. He had anticipated that the meeting would pass by rather smoothly, but by his definition of smooth, he had anticipated that you would flee the room in a fit of tears after he unintentionally criticised you over a trivial matter.

But you were remarkably unwavering, not wavering at the slightest amount of venom within his words. Instead, your only expression was a serene smile that never flickered; the only time your lips faltered was when you had to open your mouth to answer him, delighting him with your soft-spoken voice.

Dottore doesn't immediately fall in love with you, but he does become intrigued by you, somewhat like how a researcher would become enthralled by a rare specimen that only sometime emerged from its cave every full moon.

Unlike the most of his patients, Dottore is incredibly nice to you, legitimately assessing your condition accurately and prescribing the appropriate treatments. While Dottore does demonstrate some concern for your general well-being, he does have a nagging tendency of undercutting some of your treatments. It's just tinkering with the doses you're supposed to take by either adding too much or too little, nothing too drastic.

"Here. These are the medicines I'm recommending to you since they will alleviate your headaches. Too much..? No, it is the correct quantity. The other doctors must have completely misunderstood considering taking such a small amount is essentially worthless..."

Too much medicine would cause a lot of adverse effects, perhaps an increase in headaches and fever, leading you to come back to him within the next week. Too little however, doesn't do anything and doesn't even have an effect, negative or positive. After it becomes clear to you that the medicine was ineffective, you would return to his office and request for a new prescription. Basically all the tactics he can use to make sure you're back to him within a few weeks.

"Ah. So soon, my dear? Come sit down, and I'll be delighted to know what went wrong this time."

Since he regards sexual activities as nothing more than a means of reproduction, Dottore does not conceive of himself as a particularly affectionate person or as the kind of man who craves physical contact all the time. However, he did make a few modifications to his perspective on the subject. Even while his continual need to touch you isn't entirely motivated by sexual aggravations or anything, it does feel slightly pleasurable when he runs his hands up your shoulders. His justification was that he wanted to avoid unintentionally tampering with your readings and needed to be certain that he was being accurate while taking your blood pressure.

Other times, he would help you perform physical examinations, one that a nurse would usually do but he took the liberty to help you out. His favorite part though, was listening to your heartbeat through his stethoscope. Listening for the way your heart would increase after his hand would accidentally brush through close to your chest, or how his fingers would accidentally slip from the stethoscope and press against your breast.

Other times, he would accompany you in conducting physical examinations, which would typically be handled by a nurse but he would venture in to assist you. Despite his unpredictable temperament, Dottore appears to be a somewhat capable doctor throughout the first half of the examination. But halfway through, his actions start to seem a little... off, and his touches are a little too persistent. Maybe you should retract the compliments you originally gave him.

Dottore found the examination to be more amusing than he had anticipated; for the first time in his life, he felt like a true doctor. Though he doesn't think he would have considered the assessment to be as interesting if he had been required to care for a patient other than you.

But listening to your heartbeat with a stethoscope was his favourite part. It was interesting to monitor how your pulse rate would spike after his hand inadvertently brushed very close to your chest or how his fingers would accidentally unlatch from the stethoscope and press onto your breast. It was noticeable that you were aware of the way his hands would brush up against you, but you were unwilling to confront him and instead chose to merely cringe slightly, forcing your lips into a thin line to stop yourself from saying anything you'll regret.

He must touch your chest in order to feel your breasts for any lumps that might be indicators of breast cancer, you probably don't want cancer right? Every doctor needs to touch his or her patient's breast; don't treat him like some sort of pervert. Ignore the fact that he would leave his hands on your moulds for far longer than was necessary, even giving it a quick squeeze and having the audacity to laugh.

"I apologise; I understand it is uncomfortable for me to be touching your breast, but it is necessary for the physical examination."

He will frequently make statements like this while grinning widely and without any apparent remorse or sign of sorrow within his face or voice. The pelvic exam, which includes examining the cervix, vagina, and vulva, is the other component of the physical examination, one that you often dread. It's not that you've never undergone a pelvic exam; nonetheless, the majority, if not all, of those exams were performed by female nurses or medical professionals. It's therefore unsettling to have this unusual man crouch down between your legs with a flashlight in his hand and gloved hands poised to pry open your hole.

"My dear patient, don't worry. There is no need to have your cute little head all screwed up because I am experienced with these types of examinations."

Dottore claims to be knowledgeable about this sort of thing, so you do not need fear, but in reality he isn't and hasn't fully comprehended the female anatomy. Pelvic exams are typically only supposed to go on for a few minutes, but Dottore was clearly looking into you for far longer than that, his fingers fluttering at what appear to be random places, teasing and stroking your flesh. He would reel back and appear quite satisfied with what he accomplished after a few more moments of simple flicking and fondling with you before removing a metal hinge instrument from beneath the cabinet next to the bed.

"Regarding this, I'm certain you've already had a lot of experience. Please bear with me because it can ache just enough."

He will glide the instrument steadily into you as he watches your countenance change to one of pain as the metal surface of the device clings to the inside of your vagina and works its way through despite the dryness, quiet moan escaping your lips as your face flushed in embarrassment at yourself for making such a noise. Even though Dottore knew that this process would be uncomfortable, he chose to wait a few seconds before expelling the instrument from you, seemingly interested in the way your expression was one of fear. He did this while monitoring how your face is visually relaxed and your tight grip on the chair loosened.

The following stage of the process would involve him physically inserting two fingers into you, certainly with lubricant on them, to make the process much more compelling for the both of you. His other fingers would be pressed against the outside of your lower abdomen while he noticed the way his long fingers curved into your cunt, causing you to gasp. Dottore had to examine the size and shape of your uterus and ovaries during this portion of the examination, noting any painful regions or strange growths.

What a good girl. So still, and motionless.

Although he did begin to daydream during the procedure, picturing his cock stuffing you while you urge him to go harder. Would his length be discernible through your lower abdomen as well? Would he be able to press onto your stomach, feeling the curve of his own cock through your flesh? Would he be able to put pressure on your abdomen while feeling the contour of his own cock through your skin?

"That hurts, right? Do you mind if I exert more pressure here? Don't you feel a little intrigued about the small bump on your stomach as well? Why not try touching it too?"

It's possible that he'll have the chance to put that hypothesis to the test at some point.

Following the vaginal examination, he would stick a second gloved finger into your rectum to feel for any soreness, growths, or other anomalies. You haven't obviously poked your rectum as frequently as you have your vagina. You've obviously never touched your rectum as frequently as you have your vagina. Not with the way you visibly winced when his finger pressed into your behind, a startled gasp departing your lips as he forced himself harder down the lower portion of the examination table, attempting to stop the expanding erection within his tight pants.

After being humiliated for yet another five minutes, Dottore at last rose from the table, reaching into the white coat's jacket to try and nudge the material forward and conceal his erection.

Let's just say Dottore had more fun with the physical exam than he originally thought. Despite this, he gave you the go-ahead to dress and told the receptionist that you needed to schedule another appointment. He claimed that he would have been delighted to assist, but that he had another emergency to attend to. He'll depart from the room, prompting you to struggle to get dressed on your wobbling legs and wondering why he was in such a hurry, since he did state that there were no other appointments beside you for today.

Dottore would race to the restroom, fumbling to undo his pants, and stroke at his erection, which was visibly red and painfully hard. His thoughts would still be coiled around the vivid image of your body, stroking up and down his cock as he recalled the feel of your tender breast, remembering your warm, snug pelvis, which twitched around his finger like a heartbeat. In a few minutes, he would start to spasm, hard enough for his sperm to shoot against the bathroom door, staining the floor in the process.

The assessment was certainly an entertaining experiment or well, experience.

So why not come back again?

He is always available to support since, after all, he is your doctor; a medical professional who will take excellent care of you. So do return? Or maybe he'll have to switch to more extensive techniques, one that will involve the more use of mechanical methods rather than a humane one.

The sunlight feels warm. Even through the windows it's warm. On the grass, it’s warm and comforting. Grass…

You're still not well enough to go outside.

It sucks, honestly. If only you didn't stomp out angrily. If only your mother chased after you instead of ignoring you. If only your parents weren't having their usual fights and they simply bothered to look for you. If only…

No. If's are for people obsessed with the past and their mistakes. You're a person who always looks forward and pushes on with confidence. You promised yourself to not be like your mother. Yet…

Now you feel like the only way you can be close to her is by holding on to the personality traits you got from her. How comical.

The mark above your shoulder blades suddenly burns and you wince, holding onto the wall as you hyperventilate. It's not fun at all, being here. Despite him being nice and so accommodating to you, it's a pain.

The mark burns up frequently and you're left to deal with the pain. However, it's not always so intense. Mostly it's like a faint tingling or an odd sensation that helps make the mark's presence known.

But sometimes it manifests as the burning of an iron rod at the brink of melting. It's kept you up at night too. The fact that this mark is what's keeping you from a proper sleep is bound to reach him one day.

As the pain fades, you make your way from the window back to your bed. Just as you plop down with a sigh, there's a knock on your door.

The way your gut instinctively feels weird is evident that the person knocking isn't Noelle. With shaky hands, you pull over the covers for modesty and ask whoever it is to come on.

The door opens slowly and unruly ginger hair comes into view. Like on cue, your heart starts beating like you just ran a lap across the boundary of town.

You get up into a sitting position and grip the sheets as tight as you can under the covers. His presence will never fail to scare you out of your mind.

He saunters in like you're not scared out of your mind at the moment and chooses to stand right at the foot of the bed, looking at you with a smile. With the way his hair is in disarray and by his clothes, you deduce that he just woke up. The time? You don't know. You didn't bother to look at the clock since you can't even sleep.

"Good morning. I hope you slept well."

His voice has the effect of your heart calming down but it's just contradictory. He, himself, has your body recoiling in fear but his voice soothes you. How? It's absurd!

Nonetheless, you nod, not wanting to seem impolite. He is the reason why you're still alive. Being polite is the least you can do.

His smile widens and he almost looks like an excited kid. Cute, but not cute. At least he has the decency to not come and sit right beside you on the bed like last time. You almost cried and a panicked Noelle had to shoo him away. His presence is just too much.

"How are you feeling? You look better, a lot less pale."

"I'm feeling better. Thank you for asking."

Silence.

You bite your inner cheek as the heavy atmosphere weighs down on your shoulders. Tartaglia's presence adds to that weight like a boulder that's 10 times your size. He starts fiddling with his hands, probably caught on to what your problem is.

Those azure eyes look away and so do you. With a sigh, he seats himself down at the edge of the bed, back turned to you. A hand comes up to pet down the disheveled ginger mop of hair.

“If it’s not too much, I’ld like to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Why is it that my presence frightens you so much?”

You think for a moment before answering, “I think it’s because you’re immortal. Or maybe it’s because you’re not half-blooded like Noelle is. I’m sorry. It was never my intention of offending you it’s just that I can’t-”

“It’s okay. It’s just that I’ve never met a human that’s so sensitive to the supernatural.”

He shifts a bit, then turns a little so that you can see a little bit of his cheek but not his full face before he continues. “I do hope that you come around eventually.”

Melancholy fills your heart with his sad tone. You’ve had only a few conversations with him but you’ve never heard him this sad. His voice is always filled with joy, whether it’s fake joy is another matter.

With a shake of his head, he gets up. “If you do have the strength, visit me in the library sometime.”

“You know, Capitano. When I first saw you, your mask kinda scared me a little.”

It still was, honestly, and it wasn’t just his mask. A full body armor had never been so terrifying until it breathed, moved, and defended you against a bigger danger than him. Literally and figuratively.

What kind of danger?

You had no idea.

You woke up in the cruel Snezhnaya, and found by the even crueler Fatui. But strangely enough, they were kind to you. So kind to the point where you weren’t allowed to leave your room unsupervised, let alone the country. Therefore, you assumed the world outside of Snezhnaya was a danger in itself; a reasoning that you understood yet felt suffocated about.

Because, really, you were just an ordinary woman. As ordinary as any other NPCs. But through a stroke of luck, or misfortune, you became a God instead. That alone was more of a whiplash than the fact that you lived in Genshin now. In Teyvat. In the last Nation many people had been dying to reach.

And now, here you were, sitting in a frosty garden with an equally frosty guardian. You didn’t know what to talk to him, but the awkward silence was killing you, so you blurted out the first thing that appeared on your mind. Or, rather, the first reaction you had upon his character reveal.

Capitano slowly turned to you, the chains clinking slightly. Only he could make a simple gesture like that seemed menacing, as if you’d just attracted the predator into your hiding spot by committing an accidental noise.

Then again, interacting with the Fatui felt like something a dumb horror protagonist would do. You weren’t the Traveler, after all, or even the Tsaritsa.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I think it suits you.” you murmured, then quickly raised your voice in a pitiful attempt at correcting yourself. “N-not in a bad way, of course! I think it makes you look, uh, powerful. Yes, powerful.”

Still, you tittered as a good measure.

Capitano hummed thoughtfully, and you hoped you didn’t offend him. Just because he was one of your ‘worshippers’ now, didn’t mean the fear caused by his powerful figure had stopped.

“It truly is an honor to receive a praise from Her Eminence.”

You opened your mouth to object to the nickname, or title, before clamping it shut. Capitano was as unyielding as his armor. As his colleagues. As his goddess. No matter what you said about the matter, they kept believing that your name was simply too ‘sacred’ to be uttered so carelessly. Those who did were deemed ‘heretics’, and only then, you’d get to see just how sadistic they could be. How sadistic they truly were.

And although you weren’t immune to the charm of villains, everything struck different when you were surrounded by them in real life.

“Your Majesty!”

You whipped your head towards the speaker, discerning Childe waving at you from the glass doors that led to the palace. He strolled at you, and when he saw your silent guardian behind you, his jubilant face was enough to outshine the sun that remained a sorrowful witness to your internal struggle as a new goddess. After all, it was daytime too when you found yourself in Genshin, before the Fatui appeared like a persistent cloud.

“Capitano, you’re here too!” he chirped. “As much as I’d love to ask you for a spar, I think I want to be with Her Majesty for today. May I?”

You watched as the bigger man approached him and put a gloved hand in his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. You were certain it must be painful, considering his effortless strength, but Childe’s grin only grew and grew.

“If you fool around and land Her Majesty in danger, I will see to it your end.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

You had a feeling that Childe would consider it as more of an honor than a threat, but Capitano seemed quite satisfied with his response. He turned to bow at you and left, his coat swaying majestically behind him like a flag of victory.

And victory it was, for they were the first one who found the real Goddess and put her on an icy throne where they should help her rule the world with an icier fist.

“Your Majesty.” Childe smiled, extending a gloved hand that hid all the blood and scars. “Let’s go. I have something I need to show you.”

You stared at the offer, contemplating what other choices you had. There was none, of course, but it didn’t stop you from fantasizing anyway. Like a lost little girl you were.

So, you let the traces of his sins stained your hand as you held his hand and stood up.

Because what else could you do?

“I’m looking forward to it.”

You did not look forward to it, knowing that his main form of affection was violence and bloodshed, but it didn’t stop you from lying anyway. Like a good little goddess you were.

And Childe, too blinded by devotion and giddiness for everything he could offer to you, only smiled wider.