say my name like a scripture - old man!Zandik/Reader (18+)
They said necessity was the mother of invention, but in your case, all it bred was resentment and monotony.
You hadn’t wished to join the newly-blossoming Fatui. Not because you stood against its vague goals, but because the life of a menial had not been alluring to you. Still, for the underlings of the Tsaritsa - those with no Mora, no power, no ability to say ‘no’ - you did not bite the hand that fed you, no matter what its political stances were. This was the best of bad options. The Akademiya had scorned you; the back-breaking work of most merchants and labourers in Snezhnaya did not suit you.
And that was how you found yourself a domestic within Zapolyarny Palace, assigned to cleaning the quarters of the Harbinger known as Il Dottore, ‘The Doctor’.
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