⋆.˚⭒⋆"Wherever you go, whatever life throws at you...in Teyvat, the stars will always have a place for you." ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆
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rules for my content:
- I do not support or use any form of AI in my work, nor do I give permission for anyone to feed my work to AI.
- Do not repost my work anywhere without crediting me.
- I won’t be writing about characters canonically under 18 in any way other than platonic.
- please be kind! I know my work is probably cringey but I write mostly for myself, so don’t be mean if you don’t like something!
- This is a safe space, so everyone is welcome and accepted!
About me:
- 23
- She/her
- Sagittarius ♐︎
- Pan 🏳️🌈
- Diagnosed BPD and ADHD
- Self taught artist
- Currently studying in Bioscience and Astronomy
I’m very bad at being social, so I sometimes come across as either overly shy, or super intense; there’s absolutely no in between and I’m super sorry in advance. I promise I’m doing my best. ;-;
Warnings: Gn!reader! ,not proof-read, Reader has a long lifespan, bickering, Pantalone and Dottore are friends I promise, these will update as the series continues.
Notes: Firstly: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!! Secondly: Thank you so much for 100 followers! I never expected anyone to really read or enjoy my work, and even though I’m still mainly posting for myself, knowing others enjoy my work too is a big encouragement to keep going!!
Tags: @akaeyamain (if anyone else wants to be tagged just lemme know!
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The sky was grey above you as clouds clustered tighter together than what they already were with the promise of snow.
Of course, barely a day of calmer weather, and the Cryo Archons curse decided to remind Snezhnaya of its existence.
The streets were busy as you pulled your coat tighter around your body. Merchants bickering about lack of transportation routes for their cargo, fatuus marching around every corner, and civilians warning rowdy children to watch their behaviour.
This was the norm for you, though.
Many times had you walked this same route to deliver budget reports to Pantalones office.
It seemed incredibly nostalgic, but at the same time it also felt as though a weight was crushing you down.
Today was the day you finally had to confront the one thing you had been desperately trying to avoid since Zandiks passing.
Prime.
Each step you took made your stomach churn a little more.
What would he say? What would you say?
“Ah, sorry I haven’t so much as glanced at you. Kinda bummed me out when you rummaged through my husbands chest cavity for funsies.”
No. Of course not.
Archons.
Clutching your bag in your hands, you couldn’t help but picture Prime sitting across from you. His smug grin plastered on the face that you loved so deeply.
A fraud.
Hundreds of different scenarios fretted your mind as you walked up the steps to Pantalones office.
The building was almost as grandiose as its owner.
Stone walls adorning the Fatui’s crest on purple flags, and guards stationed by the tall pillars outside the large wooden doors that took two rather strong men to push open.
You were recognised well enough by now that the only security checks initiated was a basic pat down, before being allowed into the building.
The inside was just as luxurious. Marble flooring, walls decorated with expensive custom wallpaper and paintings that probably cost more than your entire life’s savings.
The one thing that surprised you most upon your first visit here, was that everything smelled incredibly inviting. The air seeming to always carry a comforting scent of fresh tea and lavender.
You had once asked Zandik where the smell came from, earning you a small shrug, followed by that mischievous glint in his eye that he only got when taking pride in his own work.
He had already done some minor tinkering to the structure of Pantalones office, so It wouldn’t surprise you if this was just another addition to that.
“Ah, welcome. Mr Regrator is waiting for your just inside his study.”
The receptionist greeted you with her usual smile, along with what seemed to be relief?
Gods, were you late? No, that can’t be right. Perhaps your watch was broken?
You were friends with the 9th, yes — but you knew your ranking well, and knew that being anything but punctual set the bankers patience on edge.
“Pantalone, Sir. I’m sorry if I’m late, I didn’t mean to keep you… waiting.”
Your frantic apologies quickly died down as you stand inside the study. Heavy doors shutting behind you with a creak.
“No need to apologise. You’re actually right on time.”
The smooth, measured tone of Pantalones voice did little to ease the tension from your body as you stood frozen in place. Eyes locked onto Prime who now had his full attention directed towards you.
“Punctual as usual. Though I must say, I’m half surprised you actually showed up.”
His voice. His stupid, stupid voice. How you wanted to scrub it from your mind and never hear it again.
“My, my — you look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Enough of that” Pantalone quickly waving off Primes particularly smug remark. “Please, take a seat and we can begin discussing the details.”
Swallowing the lump that had started to form in your throat, you take a seat.
The plush cushioning of the chair did little to comfort you with how Prime was practically staring into your soul through his mask.
A habit of his you were unfortunately far too familiar with.
As sharp as his tongue was, the most dangerous thing he could do was observe.
Anything that was unfortunate enough to take to his interest was immediately categorised into a subject that would inevitably be studied almost to a molecular degree.
“Now-” Pantalones voice practically made you flinch out of your thoughts.
“As you’re aware, Prime-”
“I believe we discussed the methods on which to address me, did we not?”
“…right. Forgive me… ‘Dottore’.”
The tension in the room was already far too thick for your liking.
“Zandik previously handled his own funding for his projects. Of course, he can no longer do so.”
“And in what way is this is relevant to me?”
The bankers trademark smile seemed to tighten ever so slightly. A dangerous tick for most who caused the subtle change in expression; yet Prime apparently still held the same privileges as his predecessor.
“If you would be so kind as to allow me to continue… It was originally expected that you - now taking over his role - would naturally be left in the same circumstances. Unfortunately for you, it has been stated that you are to relinquish all responsibility of your More to the Northland Bank, and are to request any withdrawals from either myself, or them.”
Oh good! As if the crushing atmosphere couldn’t get any worse!
The silence that followed was probably the most torture you had endured in your life as both Harbingers look over at you.
“I see…”
Primes expression - at least from what you could see - was unnervingly neutral.
Of course, it was well known that Zandiks more mature segments rarely acting on emotion — but that still didn’t stop you from wishing he at least did or said something.
“I will need you to sign some more documents, and have it filed and processed in the coming week. I do hope that’s not a problem?”
“I’d expect nothing less. But please, allow me one question, Feofan.”
The subtle twitch in Pantalones expression suddenly grew far more visible at the use of his name.
“…proceed.”
“What is it exactly that makes you believe I won’t simply conduct my work without your approval?”
“I think we’re both smart enough to understand the Tsaritsa won’t allow you to do such without consequences.”
“Tch.”
There it was.
That small, yet clear display of emotion.
A bad sign in the long run.
With a sigh, Prime leant back in the chair. One leg crossing over the other as he and Pantalone seem to have an awkwardly long glaring competition.
“Very well.” And just like that, the irritation left as quickly as it showed up.
“I’ll play along for now, but under one condition.”
“And what condition is that?”
“They-” The beak of primes mask tilted towards you as a sharp, smug grin spread across his face; almost mimicking the way a bird tilts it head towards an insect before devouring it.
“-how should I put it… ‘supervise’ my projects.”
“Huh?”
Your discomfort quickly replaced was with confusion.
Why would he need supervision? He was more than capable of conducting his work without—
Ah.
Shit.
His grin only grew wider as the realisation hit you.
Of course he didn’t need supervision. He just wanted to study you somehow.
“Wouldn’t you want to make sure I didn’t suddenly decide to go rouge, hm?”
“What? But-”
“But what? It’s a sensible decision, is it not, my Dear?”
“Don’t call me that.”
Your words left your mouth before you could think, causing Pantalone to briefly rub the bridge of his nose, clearly eager to close the meeting sooner rather than later.
“Very well, it’s settled. From this point onwards all requests go through me and will require both mine and their approval.”
“Do I not have a say in this?”
Before you could even process what was happening, the sound of one meeting paper replaced the tapping of Primes fingers against the wooden arm of the chair.
“A deal is a deal. And I must say, we are ‘all’ extremely eager to work with you.”
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| @liminaliia | do not repost without credit | do not feed to AI | 2026 |
Info: With Prime now taking on the role of the Second, he’s met with a letter from Pantalone and the beginning to one of his most anticipated experiments.
Warnings: Gn!reader! ,not proof-read, mentions of death, technically established relationship? Prime is secretly soft I swear, these will update when I add more chapters.
Notes: SEGMENT TIME! still world building but I have a direction now! (Do not expect updates to be this consistently speedy I am STRUGGLING in the heat.)
Ps: I’m not gonna be colour coding characters anymore because it’s gonna be so confusing in the long run with the limited colours I have.
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“How incredibly dull...”
The sound of a pen tip scratching against paper filled the unsettlingly quiet ambiance of the office.
Sunlight barely making its way through the cracks of the curtains that had been drawn shut, forbidding any of the outside world to interrupt the blue haired man barely visible behind a mountain of paperwork.
Gods, this was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.
Of course, Prime had expected the tedious process of sorting through Zandiks unfinished paperwork after ‘taking over’ his position, but the sheer amount was starting to delay the plans he had intended to of already acted out by now.
One month had past.
One month of sitting around and doing nothing, while opportunities and experiments lay dormant in the cold hallways of the Laboratory back at the Palace.
“Lord harbinger.”
The sheepish voice of a lanky looking fatui agent pulled Prime out of his sulking, earning a rather indignant glare from beneath his beaked mask.
“Did I not make myself clear? I am not to be disturbed unless it’s a matter of upmost importance.”
“Well- uh… I-”
“Out with it. I do not have all day.”
The agent, who was clearly a newer recruit, gathered what courage he had before walking up to the desk and handing Prime an envelope.
“I was informed that this was urgent, Sir.”
“Oh?”
Taking it from the agent, he knew instantly who it was from.
The elegant handwriting that adorned the high quality paper of the envelope practically reeked of Pantalone.
“Very well — you’re dismissed.”
A wave of his gloved hand was all the agent needed to make his escape, leaving Prime to lean back in his chair with a sigh.
He paid little regard to the paper as he tore open the wax seal. Removing the letter, he could already smell the priceless perfume that seemed to cling to everything Pantalone came in contact with; almost like a virus wrapped up in a sickeningly sweet facade of charm and poise.
To whom it may concern-
I’m very much aware that the timing of this letter will be rather inconvenient to you. But as your colleague I am unfortunately inclined to prioritise official matters over your own personal ones.
The matter being, of course, Zandiks will and testament that he left in my possession. I understand that you previously informed me of your lack of interest in such things, but I’m afraid it involves your own financial and personal interests.
I have already discussed the subject with his spouse, and we’ve come to the decision to inform you in person.
The meeting will be held at 12pm the day following this letters date of dispatch. And no, you are not permitted to send one of the other segments in your place.
Regards: The Regrator.
To Primes surprise, he wasn’t as irritated and he expected to be.
He was always astutely aware that his insatiable curiosity would get the better of him, but he’d be lying if he told himself he wasn’t at least the slightest bit intrigued about what his predecessor had expected of him.
That, and this being the first time he’d be able to personally converse with Zandiks spouse — his spouses.
Of course, he understood why they avoided him.
He actually found it rather amusing at times. The ways in which they pretended he didn’t exist.
It was only a matter of time before they’d have to be faced with their new reality, making their meeting one of his most eagerly anticipated yet.
The red tinted screen behind his mask ran through various different coding, before a small crack of static confirmed a successful transmission.
“What is it now?”
The voice that responded was that of Theta.
A segment of Zandik during his time in the Akademiya. Despite having all the typical characteristics of an over worked student, and being the second youngest of them all at 18 — he was surprisingly the most efficient and reliable when it came to carrying out orders.
“Theta, inform the others that I am going be absent for the coming 48 hours.”
“Another excuse to avoid paperwork, I assume?”
“You’d do well to remember your ranking and how you address me. And no — this has to do with official matters.”
“Very well.”
With that, the transmission was cut, leaving Prime to stare at the letter he still held in his hand.
“The board has been presented, and the pieces are set. Let us hope you knew your moves as well as I do, Zandik.”
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| @liminaliia | do not repost without credit | do not feed to AI | 2026 |
Info: This is a continuation to my last work that I’ve decided to turn into a series. Zandik is gone, and now you’re left to rebuild your life with his segments, with the help of Pantalone.
Warnings: Gn!reader! ,not proof-read, swearing, mild angst, mentions of death, technically established relationship? these will update when I add more chapters.
Notes: So I’m still technically taking a break, but my mental health is probably the lowest it’s been in a good while and I need something to throw myself into so I don’t relapse into stuff lmao.
Ps: This chapter will be one of the shortest since I’m just world building atm :P
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"Are you quite alright?"
Pantalones voice snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to blink away the dryness that had formed in your eyes from staring too long at nothing in particular.
Golden light poured through the windows to his office, making the cold, untouched tea to look almost like liquid gold in its cup.
"Yeah... yeah, l'm fine. You were saying about the budget?"
The budget. Archons, you were so tired of hearing about the budget.
This was your husbands funeral. One that most of Snezhnaya eagerly wished to attend just to make sure it was true.
You just wanted to say goodbye.
"Zandik left a savings of fifty million Mora in his personal vault. To be quite honest, considering his lack of financial prowess, he planned well. For you, no doubt."
"How considerate of him."
Your dry response only served to pull a chuckle from the bankers throat.
"I trust his segments are treating you well?"
His segments. How you hated them.
"I haven't spoke to them since his death."
"Oh? Yes, I imagine it would be rather difficult, all things considered."
You didn't want to see them. Not after the way they treated your husbands corpse with the same respect as a frog laid out for dissection.
Not to mention, seeing and hearing the exact replica of him from all the memories you held dearest - it hurt too much.
"Upsilon keeps peaking into the bedroom."
"You two were rather close from what Zandik had mentioned. I imagine it's a confusing time for him."
You wished that were so. You wished you could believe he cared.
The youngest of his segments; one created so Zandik could study his work from a far more ‘innocent' perspective.
It was never spoken out loud, but the two of you saw him almost like a son.
But now? you couldn't stand the sight of him and those cold, curious red eyes.
"He's not oblivious."
"Perhaps - but he's still Zandik, is it not?"
"no. He's not."
The spite that laced your tone caused Pantalone to frown.
He'd never admit it, but he was also struggling with the change.
They were close - yet Pantalone, for some reason or other, refused to make you aware of whatever conflict he was feeling.
The pride of a Harbinger, you assumed.
Perhaps he thought convincing himselt that nothing had really changed would make everything less complicated.
You knew what he had seen that day he stopped by the lab. You knew it left a mark on him just as much as it did you.
Bringing it up was pointless, though. You were here for business, not to chat.
"I'm assuming Prime is now in charge of any future funding arrangements?"
Prime. The segment of your husband at the peak of his career; and now? his replacement.
To make matters worse, Prime had a god complex to say the very least.
He was obnoxiously egotistical with a selfish streak that ran deeper than Teyvats Leylines.
Was he your husband now? You were still legally bound to his name after all.
You personally didn’t want to find out.
You had even contemplated whether you could use identity fraud as solid grounds for a Divorce if that was the case.
"Actually, no."
The look of confusion on your face cause Pantalones eyes to wrinkle behind his glasses with a smile. One far too amused for your own liking.
"Zandik stated in his will and testament that he'd rather that responsibility fall to both you and myself. Any future financial investment will have to be approved as such."
Oh. Oh no.
"What? But Prime-"
"I'm just as perplexed as you are, I can assure you of that. But I myself would be lying if I said it wasn't one of his more sensible ideas."
It wouldn't take a genius to understand how much that complicated things.
Prime would in no way, shape, or form be pleased knowing that he would have to convince lower rankings into letting him do as he wished.
You also didn't like the idea of having to commune with him in the slightest.
Whatever Zandik had planned out for you, you didn't appreciate it. Not in the slightest.
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| @liminaliia | do not repost without credit | do not feed to AI | 2026 |
Some would say the idea of loving someone born to fit the role of a heretic would make you almost, if not, just as insane as the heretic himself.
That didn’t bother you.
The man you had chose to spend your life with had a beautiful mind. A talent for creating and solving conundrums just for the sake of it — just because he could.
At first, the nature of his methods unsettled you; but that was a long time ago when the two of you met during his time as a very awkward, very antisocial reclusive student in the Akademiya.
Getting close to him was probably harder than the entirety of the material you had spent countless nights drudging through — but the endless cold shoulders and snappy remarks were worth it when he had willingly decided his place to sit was now next to you.
He didn’t acknowledge your friendship until late into his teenage years, and neither did he acknowledge how much further it went after your first kiss that he had deemed an ‘experiment is social behaviour’.
He never asked you out on dates. No. He simply stole you to go and ‘do something more productive’.
The ring he spent countless days making from left over ruin guard parts wasn’t a promise ring — it was just something he ‘accidentally’ made and didn’t want to waste materials.
All of that seemed so far away as you watched the moonlight glinting off the same very same ring. Blue hair peppered with white gently catching on the ridges as you ran your hand through Zandiks hair.
You thought back to your wedding.
A small, private affair. He didn’t want the large fuss of a public ceremony, despite the Tsaritsa explaining what a big deal it was for a Harbinger and their spouse.
You thought about the arguments when he’d spend more time with his projects than with you. The way he’d wordlessly apologise by holding you in his arms, almost as if he were scared you’d slip away.
Emotions that bubbled over in both good and bad ways. Ways which were never seen by anyone else.
“It’s time.” A voice all too familiar spoke out into the suffocating silence of your shared bedroom.
It was his voice, but it wasn’t him. It would never be him anymore.
“I hope you’re aware that this opportunity is something rather extraordinary.”
Blinking, you looked up to see Omega. The cold expression on his face causing a pit of anger to fill your chest.
How could he be this cruel? This excited to violate the body of the man you loved. He created him — he existed because of him.
Yet you knew there wasn’t anything you could do; so instead, you wiped the tears off your cheek with your sleeve and stood up from the bed, looking down at Zandik who lay motionless. The silence that was once filled with his raspy breathing now louder than any explosion could compare to.
Sleeping. That’s what you told yourself.
He’d wake up soon.
He wouldn’t.
You knew that.
That awkward boy from Sumeru had faded, and along with him, so had your heart.
The man known as a heretic was no more, and all you could do was watch as three of his segments - three of the men who looked like your husband, yet would never be him, transported his body away as though he were nothing more than an experiment.
He wasn’t an experiment, you thought. He was Zandik.
Your Zandik.
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I wanted to get out some angst before I took my break because why not?
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| @liminaliia | do not repost without credit | do not feed to AI | 2026 |
Idk, I’ve thought about it more and it just makes less sense.
I’ve done the math several times over and the timeline just doesn’t add up based on the information we’ve been given during other quests; especially Wanderers timeline and it really bothers me.
It also doesn’t make sense for it to end that way? Like what was the point? The entire synopsis of his character was “yeah let’s spend years adding to his lore and building it up just for his entire existence to be based on planning some badass funeral for himself.”
Like yeah, sure. He’d probably want that — but he definitely felt like he had something other than that scenario for his end goal?
And if he does return, I know full well it’ll only be because of some magical friendship redemption arc which I’m honestly so tired of.
Not to mention how Pantalone directly ties in with now canonically no longer being a permanent character unless he’s also given a redemption arc, which they probably won’t.
He doesn’t have jiggle physics and is genuinely interesting.
I have so many drafts for him that I can’t finish because of the story no longer making sense. Headcanons that are worthless now due to them just being confusing. All of my inspiration is gone and It hurts.
Ik it’s silly to get so attached to a character, but I don’t think I have any interest left in playing. I’ll be taking a break either until there’s more Pantalone content or until Snezhnaya releases. I’ll keep my account up incase I get the inspiration to write stuff again, but it feels weird knowing the entire reason I made this account was because of him?
Oh I’m fast. I’m fast as fuck you have no idea. Also these were the only references I remembered since it still hurts too much to actually look up the cut scenes lmao, so forgive me for any inaccuracies.
Kinda feel like Hoyo gave Lohen to us like parents who buy a new teddy bear as a replacement for their kid who had just lost an old beloved teddy that faintly resembles this one? Like, look dear, he kinda looks like Dottore, has the same colors as Dottore, is unhinged like Dottore. Why aren't you happy? The new teddy is cool, but it's just not the old one... 💔
Spoilers and thoughts below (yeah I’m editing this because I’ve had time to process the loss of my wife)
Firstly: I fully believe Pantalone is gonna bring him back somehow idk nor do I care how.
Everything Genshin does has lore tied. They wouldn’t mention Pantalone and Dottores metaphorical-soul-baby-making for no reason. Also I feel like the disappearance of the pyro gnosis feels like Dottore maybe harnessed its power somehow?
Maybe I’m misinterpreting it, but also, the last we see of Dattatore before he’s consumed by the flames, he laughs. Faintly, but absolutely there. Am I coping? Yes. Shut up.
PIANIST DOTTOOOORE OMGGGGGGGGGGGG
Second — PANTALONE??? His hair with the side rat tail kinda disappointed me a little ngl, but when has Genshin ever provided us with overwhelming hair designs on their models.
Feeble banker my ass. He’s a gg cup for sure.
I’m probably going to keep playing just for him, because honestly, idk. Like I stated in one of my previous grief induced rant posts, Genshin feels a little dry. And ik I’m not burned out because I’ve definitely been there and back with this game.
But enough of that! Dottore segments!!! Also old man Dottore? I want to scoop him up and give him the attention he needed.
Imagine getting autopsied on by yourself lmao.
Weird inheritance but pop off queen.
THE EARRING WAS HIS LIFE FORCE IM LOSING MY SHIT YOU DONT UNDERSTAND
Does that mean Pantalone also has something similar?
His smoking addiction is funny.
Getting a transplant done by your begrudging husband best friend because of that is funnier.
Why is the goat hot? All i’m saying on that.
Alhaitham and Kaveh actually being nice to each other!!! I personally struggle with their ship because I’ve been in a relationship like that previously and I personally don’t like the dynamic — BUT! I see the vision. Old married couple for sure.
Nicole you betrayed me I’m saving for Lohen and I tried but you used like half my wishes for razor. I do not need more razor. I have enough of him.
Also hearing the Traveler talk so much is so refreshing. And their bond with Paimon - as much as I hate to admit it - is extremely cute.
Overall: the story was okay. Definitely not as good as the first Sumeru quest with it feeling kinda long and a lot of pointless back and forth, but still better than Natlan, and we did get a lot of lore from it for us nerds who actually enjoy it.
I’m still not super excited for Sneznhaya anymore, but I’m hoping that gives me enough reason to keep playing. I don’t want to give up on this dumbass game after investing so many years in it, so it better provide.
My man will return. Pantalone and him will kiss. I’m delusional.
Info: Reader struggles with their mental health and Venti has the Anemo urge to pester take them under his wing(s).
Warnings: Gn!reader, not proof-read, ignore any misspellings Apples keyboard will be the death of me, angst, comfort, fluff, platonic friendship, suggested BPD but can be interpreted as several other mental health struggles, mentions of depression, mentions of self harm, mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol, soft Venti, I swear there’s fluff.
Notes: Why yes, I am still going through emotional distress from 6.6 leaks — but why think about that when I can trauma dump on Venti? Also this is vaguely based off a conversation I actually had with my therapist, so if it doesn’t make sense, blame them.
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Tired. That was the most prominent thing you had felt for a large, exhausting portion of your life.
Emotions too intense, sabotaged relationships, constant health issues only aggravated by constant stress, and repetitive coping mechanisms that you endlessly chased just for a fleeting, meaningless hit of dopamine.
Your parents did their best to understand — at least, that’s what you told yourself; But you couldn’t ignore the way the light in their eyes fizzled out when they realised how different you were compared to the bright, energetic child they still expected you to be. When your ‘problems’ were no longer easily solved by simply sticking on a bandaid, or cooking your favourite meal.
Once you grew old enough to gain your own independence, you quickly decided to slowly remove yourself from the lives of the people you cared about. Not wanting to put them through any more of your outbursts and breakdowns. But this only ended up being even more detrimental to yourself.
Too many times had you teetered on the edge of going too far; one too many sips of alcohol, one too many pills that were supposed to help you feel better, one too many tears falling to mingle with your blood that stained the wood of your bedroom floor.
You thought that perhaps, maybe gaining some purpose to your routine of spiralling hopelessly could help you feel better; which is how you ended up working at The Angels Share.
The pay was decent, and Charles - your manager, was friendly enough, and so were the frequent guests.
It worked for a little while. The fast pace of making drinks and serving customers, all while the sound of constant chatter and clinking of glasses helped to block out any pestering thoughts of despair — but you could never seem to help yourself from taking advantage of the wine bottles left half full during your closing shifts.
Tonight had been extremely busy. All of Mondstadt had been celebrating the return of The Grand Master and his troops, giving you barely any time to catch your breath.
It wasn’t until Charles had managed to remove the last of the drunks, that you finally had a moment to sit down.
The lingering laughter and talk still rang loud in yours ears as you sank down into the wooden chair, taking a moment to process the insane amount of glasses and cups you’d have to clean before the end of your shift.
“Barbatos help me, why did I think this was a good idea…”
“Not enjoying the party?”
The moment you heard his voice, your heart practically leaped out of your chest before you could even process the fact that you weren’t as alone as you thought.
“Venti!? Archons, don’t just sneak up like that!”
“Oops. And here I was taking your own advice to be more quiet~”
Venti. An alcoholic bard that regularly attended The Angels share; albeit beyond his welcome most of the time. Constantly singing tunes and poems in return for free booze and liquor. A menace.
“What are you still doing here? We’re closed, you know that.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I work here, remember? The floors and dishes don’t clean themselves.”
“Ah — such a hardworking citizen. I must commend you for such important work~”
If you could smuggle a bag of cat fur in just to keep him from rambling to you, you would. You really didn’t need the extra talk right now.
“Please, just leave like the other guests — unless you want me to call in Diluc.”
“Fine, fine — no need to get so worked up. I know when I’m not wanted.”
Although his words were akin to a child being cast out of their home, you could still see those mischievous little gears turning in his head, inevitably planning some new way to pester you.
It took you around an hour and thirty minutes to finish your closing shift. Floors cleaned, chairs stacked neatly in their places, and cups and glasses cleaned until they shone.
Usually you wouldn’t put so much effort into the visual aesthetic of drinkware that would inevitably end up broken within the coming week, but you decided maybe taking your time tonight would be for the better.
It didn’t take long for your prediction to come to fruition. You barely had a moment to finish locking up the door, before the sight of familiar emerald green eyes decided to pop up almost right next to your face.
“You certainly took your time!”
“And there he is…”
“Aw, come now. I’m not that predictable, am I? Geez.”
You knew it was rude to simply walk away from the conversation, but you were tired and far beyond emotionally drained after the recent celebrations. So, with a deep sigh, you walk past the bard.
Unfortunately, Venti was one of the more persistent people you’ve met. So you weren’t entirely surprised when the sound of a second pair of feet caught your attention.
“Isn’t your home in the other direction?”
“I’m not going home just yet.”
“Oh?”
A brief silence.
You knew you wasn’t going to get out of this, so with a sigh, you begrudgingly decide to entertain the bard.
“Sometimes I just need to talk a walk. Process thoughts and stuff.”
“I see… well then, what better way to do so than with good wine and a friend by your side, eh?”
The smile he flashed you almost reflected the moonlight just as much as the bottle he pulled out from Archons knows where.
“Is that-”
“The dawn wineries finest dandelion wine? Why yes it is~”
You opened your mouth to question him, before quickly decide there wasn’t any point.
It was a long walk to Starsnatch cliff, but you didn’t mind.
You had made this track more times than you could count. The only difference being that you were usually alone.
It was a beautiful place, and the name suited it well. A towering cliff that stretched out farther than most would deem safe, covered in a blanket of soft grass that looked like a sea of emerald during the daytime, while catching the moonlight with a silvery glow during the night.
You sat down on the edge with a huff. Despite being used to walking here, your lungs could never seem to get used to the near vertical climb you so persistently decide to choose over the easier, but longer route.
“Ah — Starsnatch cliff. No matter how many times I see it, it never loses its magic.”
The sound of a cork popping made you flinch. Venti seemingly deciding not to waste any time before enjoying the borrowed stolen beverage.
“Yeah… it’s always quiet here.”
A small silence stretched between the two of you. The only sound being heard was that of the wind.
It seemed warmer than usual for this time of year — more comforting. Maybe it was just the wine you had already started to sip on starting to take effect.
“You know, I also like to come here when I’m feeling bummed out.”
“…”
“What? Even I have days where the wind blows a little harsher than usual.”
“Is that why you followed me?”
“A problem shared is a problem halved; and it wouldn’t take a genius to see that you need someone to talk to.”
You didn’t like this. Not one bit.
Being confronted about your emotions was never a good thing.
You’ve lost count how many times being open to someone has caused arguments and crying. You simply put it down to never being able to coherently communicate how you felt without it sounding like an attack.
“You can’t help what’s wrong with me.”
A flicker of a frown showed on Venti’s, before quickly being replaced with something softer.
“Who said anything about fixing? I may not be a professional, but trust me, I’ve been around long enough to see and hear it all — where do you think I get my inspiration for my poetry?”
“How old even are you…?”
“Hehe, don’t you know it’s rude to ask someone their age?”
Rolling your eyes at his non-answer, you fall back into the soft grass and stare up at the stars. You had heard rumours it was fake, that the sky was some kind of simulation.
Ramblings of overly imaginative adventures — even if it were, they were still beautiful nonetheless. Twinkling gems high above Teyvat. A constant.
“Do you… ever feel like you’re not in control of yourself? Like you’re just kind of floating behind while something else decides what you feel?”
A tilt of his head signalled for you to continue.
“I don’t think I feel things the way others do. If I’m happy then it’s the best feeling in the world, when I’m sad then it’s torture — and when I’m neither, I’m just… empty.”
“I’m just so tired of being jealous of seeing others live so normally — of seeing them live in general and not just survive…”
You didn’t know if the silence between you was torture or a blessing. You had already said too much — why were you even telling him this?
“You know, I’ve heard people say similar things before. That they wish they didn’t have to feel the way they did.”
Venti took a moment to look past the cliff and over to Mondstadt. A look of familiarity in his eyes that held far more weight to them than what you’d expect of a drunken bard.
“I’ve felt like that before too, a long time ago. Emotions like storm clouds that seem to cast darkness over everything that see’s the sunlight… but isn’t that such a wonderful thing?”
“Wonderful? Seriously?”
“Of course! To feel means to be alive — it’s the very thing that guides us to be the individuals that we are. Everything from the people of Teyvat, to the animals, and even the plants — all of them feel something.”
“Yeah, but they feel things ‘normally’.”
“Hah! Don’t be silly! Everyone has a different perspective of ‘normal’. What you feel is just your own — that doesn’t make you broken. If you were to feel differently, then you wouldn’t be you.”
“Sometimes I feel like that would be better…”
“Then let’s put it this way: say you get a splinter. It hurts, right?”
“Well… yeah?”
“You wouldn’t know there was even something there if it didn’t, and you’d probably end up getting some gross infection! Pain, be it emotional or physical, is just our mind telling us that there’s something that needs to be addressed.”
“Personally, I’d rather feel the pain of a splinter over being forced to take bitter medicine.”
The laugh that bubbled up surprised you. He was rambling, and you still felt like you couldn’t fully explain how you felt — but he was actually trying to help in his weird, round-about way instead of just shouting at you.
“I suppose. I just wish there wasn’t a splinter at all.”
Venti didn’t reply straight away. Whether that was because he didn’t have the answers you needed, or simply wanted you to figure them out yourself; you didn’t entirely know, but you were glad he didn’t push the conversation further.
“For what it’s worth, you’ll always have a friend to help. No matter how awful the things you feel are.”
A sudden warmth enveloped you as Venti suddenly wrapped his cape around your shoulders.
“…thank you…”
“…you know I’m still going to have to report the stolen wine to Diluc — right?”
“And after sharing such wisdom? Alas, whatever shall I do.”
Venti let out an overly dramatic sigh, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Barbatos help me.”
“Who knows — the wind always works in mysterious ways.”
You chose to ignore the way his eyes seemed briefly to dance with an emerald glow, instead, choosing to embrace the soft gust of wind that now, somehow, had the faintest smell of Dawn Wineries finest Dandelion Wine.
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| @liminaliia | do not repost without credit | do not feed to AI | 2026 |
As a bioscience student, I personally take it upon myself to reanimate that mf. He thinks he can die? Jokes on him, I’m a woman in STEM and he’s my morally complicated comfort character. I’ll bring him back for us, dw guys.
I honestly don’t even really know where Genshin is gonna get the plot that keeps it interesting from anymore?
It’s silly to get so upset but one: I’m overly hormonal atm, so give me that. and two: he was such a good character, and to just kill him off???
I love this game, but I feel like anyone who plays can tell you that there’s a large portion that’s just… boring?
Natlan actually made me quit for a good while because of how empty it felt.
Dottore was one of the best written villains and story carrier so far and now that’s just gone??
Also this completely fucks up the entire timeline between Dottore and Wanderer?
If you do the math, there’s absolutely no way Dottore was the age he would have been when they met?
What are we doing????
First they delete the segments that would have added so much interest to the lore and so many different stories, and now him???
I know I’m biased about him, but even before I actually started taking comfort in him, I always thought he was a really interesting character.
Like what do you mean??? Who’s going to be the main antagonist now? I highly doubt there’s a character that can match him when it comes to provoking the traveler.
Yes, I’m aware there’s still interesting characters who carry lore too — but he was one of the very few that’s actually kept me interested in the story and progression of this long ass tedious bs of having our sibling just ngaf about us, while we seemingly can’t understand that fact.
So glad we get more millastra and unnecessary fan-service though, right?
Time to watch all fanarts and fanfics of this man slowly disappear with time now that we most likely won’t see him as his own character again.
Literally wouldn’t be surprised if they killed the Tsaritsa just for ‘plot’ or whatever.
I’m not even excited for Snezhnaya anymore.
Tbh I’m contemplating quitting. I’ve tried to defend this game for so long and now I feel like I’ve just lost most of my desire to keep doing so, so I might just abandon this account at some point.
Info: Do I feel any sense of shame in Indulging in this? Not even slightly. Am I vibrating with excitement to see Datattore? At frequencies yet to be recorded by science.
Warnings: MDNI!!!, Gn!Reader! ,not proof-read, degradation, mentions of collars, use of the word ‘slut’ and ‘dog’, seriously — I might have gotten a little too carried away, soft Dottore if you squint insanely hard.
Notes: Okay, so, the one and only time I’ll be mentioning this due to it being personal, but I’ve recently found out I’m pregnant and my health is causing complications, so posting may end up being slow aaaaa!
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On my knees and hair tied back hehehohoho
Speaking from a logical point of view, he wouldn’t view you as ‘his partner in crime’ so to speak.
No. He’s your god and you’re his most devout worshiper. And besides, what kind of god would he be if he didn’t reward you for that?
If you’ve been good, he might even let you sit on his lap~
Of course, being such an ‘important’ and ‘special’ person in his grand experiment means he has to keep a very close eye on you.
Can’t have you suddenly taking an interest in other people now, can he? Don’t worry. He’s everything you’ll ever need! Surely you don’t actually want to leave the personal domain that he created especially for you, right? That would simply be ungrateful.
You’ll want and need for nothing. The finest foods will be prepared for you, and the softest blankets will be placed on your bed, just to give you some much deserved comfort after any particularly… ‘intense’ worship sessions.
Just make sure you don’t take his benevolence for granted. He doesn’t really need you, you need him, and you’d do well to remember that.
Ignore the fact he’d quite literally move heaven and earth just to find you; that’s completely irrelevant!
Oh, how he does love the way you look.
He’s never personally been one to find people’s appearance important. But something about the way your hair sits, the way you look up at him through your eyelashes, even the way your lip quivers if he gets a little too close to your ear — all of it only serves to make him feel as though he maybe has truly been missing out.
May the Heavenly Principles show mercy to those who threaten your wellbeing - be it emotionally or physically - because he sure as hell won’t.
Perhaps they could serve more use to you as macabre decor.
All you need to know is that you’re safe in his arms again, and that pest has been put to far better use.
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The ground that you knelt on felt warm compared to the cold, crimson gaze of Dottore.
You knew you should have declined that commission. Hell, you don’t even need to scrounge for mora anymore; but old habits die hard, and now you’re facing the consequences.
“Tell me, what exactly did you expect?”
“I-…”
“I provide you with everything you could possibly need to be content. The data never lies my dear — yet you still insist on testing my patience with your lack of appreciation.”
A rough tug on the leash attached to the collar adoring your neck quickly replaced your words with a gasp. Harsh, leather edges bitting into your flesh with little sympathy to your discomfort.
“Ah-ah. If you don’t like the collar, then perhaps you shouldn’t behave like a disobedient dog.”
Despite the burning pain on your skin and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, you couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of comfort as Dottore reaches down to pet your head. Long fingers tenderly scraping against your scalp.
You used to hate this feeling; the ways that he’d mock your discomfort, only to reward you with the very thing you denied wanting.
“Oh come now. I’m only doing this for your own good, you know? Once you understand that your place is next to me, you’ll have no desire to mingle with such insignificant creatures anymore.”
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Intimacy is a never ending cycle of humiliation and praise.
One moment you’ll be held in his lap, large palms tracing every curve and bump of your body in ways that make you feel as if you’re the most precious, fragile thing he’s ever seen — then the next will have him forcing your head down to his full length down your throat.
Don’t worry, though. He’ll kiss those pretty tears away once he’s decided to finally let you breathe.
If you’ve been good, he’ll always make sure to give you a little extra reward.
He’s not cruel after all… right?
No matter how much you wish you could, you just can’t bring yourself to deny how beautiful he looks between your legs.
His signature shit-eating grin beaming up at you as he give your most sensitive spot a small nibble.
Oh how perfect the little squeaks and whimpers you make are.
Run your hands through his hair; pull on it if you have to! He doesn’t care as long as it’s his name and his name alone that you cry out when you cum from his mouth.
Make sure to ask first, though. If you don’t, he’ll simply stop and give you a disapproving hum.
If you’re not going to use your manners, he might as well treat you like the slut you are.
He never gets tired of seeing the way your stomach bulges with each thrust of his cock. His full length reaching places that make you simultaneously see stars and white at the same time.
What’s that? It’s too much for you? Well that’s a shame since he has the stamina of a literal god.
He’ll take good care of you once he’s finally decided that you’re completely fucked out, though.
He knows you’re probably sore and overly sensitive from cumming over and over again, so he’ll prepare a bath filled with oils and flowers to help ease your body.
Could he easily heal those bite marks and bruises that litter your skin? Yes… but why would he do that?
They’re simply to make sure any unwanted attention is fully aware that you’re his.
And besides, you look perfect covered in purple — it reminds him of those flowers he once saw in his day to day life. What were they again? Sumeru roses?
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| @liminaliia | do not repost without credit | do not feed to AI | 2026 |
Dorman Port soft dropping traveler having to aim a gun in that one challenge thing is so funny. Like yeah don’t question why the knights suddenly have a shooting range you can use; it’s absolutely not foreshadowing at all.
Love when tumblr randomly decides to delete the vent fic I’ve been working on for ages because they suddenly don’t support the formatting anymore?? I need to personally fistfight this app.
