.

.

.

When Dottore began to link up your limbs again, you didn't even think to resist. It was day one all over again, you were on your knees with your arms held up in the air by chains.

You were scared.

Oh so very scared.

You didn't appear it, you just looked sluggish, but adrenaline was surging through your veins like there was no tomorrow.

Dottore

"Man, I'm so pumped up! Are you pumped up, puppet boy?"

Scaramouche

"Mhm. I'm sooo excited."

He had never sounded more sarcastic in his life, although most of the time he does.

Dottore

"And what about you, Y/N? Are you excited?"

You

"... What's so exciting about having to stare at a freak with blue hair and a hideous mask while being interrogated? You didn't even start, and just looking at you hurts my brain."

You thought joking around would help you settle, and it did. 

Until Dottore swung his leg around and kicked you hard in the face.

Your head swung to the side, and you couldn't put it back. Dottore knelt down to your level, on his knees, and grabbed your hair, pulling it firmly with his powerful grip to reposition your head.

Your mouth was already full of blood from that single kick, and it poured out in seconds. Your garments were bloodstained, as were the corners of your lips.

Dottore

"Listen here, Y/N. This is how we're going to do things."

Scaramouche was aware that Dottore was violent, but he had never witnessed him torture someone. He was absolutely terrified after witnessing his method of torture, which was a simple yet strong kick to the face. 

He stood at the far corner of the room, in the darkness, with a dull expression on his face.

You

"..."

Dottore

"You have three strikes. That was just number one. You anger me, I hurt you - It only makes sense, yeah? After the final strike, I'll start bringing in my precious armaments. But!- If you tell me something that you know about the fatui organization, I'll reduce the number of strikes you have, and therefore, I'll sadly miss out on using my weaponry on you. Understood?"

You

"Nooo! It doesn't make sense to me at all, actually. You kicked my face so hard to the point where I acquired memory loss, so I basically just forgot everything you said."

You laughed loudly, blood still dripping from your mouth even at a faster rate now and splattering on your clothes and the ground.

When you finished laughing, you lowered your head, and the moment you glanced up, Dottore's boots landed another hard kick in the face.

Dottore

"And that's strike number two. Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything? Anything at all? You have one more strike to go or else you'll get a nailed bat rammed into your face."

You

"The only thing that's gonna get rammed is your ass when Childe visits your dorm tonight! Haha!"

Dottore exclaimed, looking down at you as you burst out laughing.

Dottore

"Oh Y/N, you've really done it now..."

You

"Oh wait I forgot, I don't think Childe has the time for you... He's too busy fucking other guys behind your back. Honestly, who'd want to fuck your ass?"

Dottore

"Quiet! Everyone wants to fuck my ass!"

Scaramouche

"This just went from hardcore torture to an argument about gay sex. Ah, how my day couldn't get any more interesting."

Dottore

"I don't even know why you're talking, you're miserable and you work for the Raiden Shogun!"

You

"Oh- You don't want to hear me talk?! Well, get closer Dottore, because I'm not shutting up!"

You shrieked at him, inhaling so much dry air that the blood around your lips eventually dried up. But it was all for naught as Dottore curled his fists and punched you across the face, completing the third strike he indicated. 

More blood was drawn, spilling out of your mouth once again. The puddle of blood on the floor right underneath your chin just grew larger.

Dottore

"And there you have it! All three strikes wasted! Any last words before you get a dagger through your skull?! Or perhaps you can actually tell me something that's worth listening to so that your strikes are unfortunately reduced?!"

Dottore was furious, yelling as loudly as you did. You could hear cracks in his scratchy voice, and you both shared the pain of your throats burning from shouting so much.

You

"Ah yes, Dottore. I have much to share with you."

Your voice became as tranquil as ever, and the overall attitude altered. Dottore's sharp teeth in his frown vanished just as he was going to order Scaramouche to bring him his whole library-sized bookshelf of weaponry.

You

"You have no right to tell me I have a miserable life. Let's talk about our youth, shall we?"

Dottore

"... Huh?"

You

"As I recall, you were chased out of your own village, right?"

Dottore

"Hold it, how do you-"

You

"Hah! I couldn't relate! All people in my small village respected me. Were you really that unlikeable, Dottore?"

Dottore

"Stop it!"

You

"What was it they called you? A 'madman' I believe, right? Am I triggering any memories?"

Dottore

"Enough! I told you to be quiet!"

You

"I was successful in graduating from all academies and schools I've attended, that's how I got my job to aid someone none other than the Electro Archon herself. Lucky for me, I wasn't stupid enough to get myself expelled like you, Dottore!"

His sharp-toothed grimace reappeared, and he looked angrier than ever.

You

"Because of that, I deserve to get two strikes off. I just told you two things that I know about Dottore, No. 2 Of The Fatui Harbingers. Look, I even said your harbinger name in full respect."

Dottore

"... Fuck the bookshelf of weapons."

He bashed his knee straight into your face, and you felt a stinging pain from the bridge of your nose. He beat you once with both of his powerful fists, twice, and then he lost count. It got to the point where he yanked the chains off of you, pinned you to the hard floor, and slammed the back of your head on the concrete. 

He sat on top of your torso and completely wrecked you. He laughed briefly as he hit your face with his boot or his clenched fist, but it sounded hostile. That smile on your face faded after the first six blows or so; it was no longer amusing to you.

You started to tear up. Then you started crying. Then you sobbed, your tears and drool mixing with the blood flowing from your nose, head, and mouth; god, you were literally the blood puddle itself. Now, this was real torture. As you wailed, you began to scream whenever the agony became too intense, which was when it would shoot through your entire body.

Scaramouche just stared for the first minute, but he became concerned when he saw Dottore preparing to go too far. He could tell when Dottore wasn't fatigued and had that severe expression on his face that Scaramouche had never seen him wear.

Scaramouche

"Dottore."