Chat History
Remember: everything Dottore (as a gift<3) says is made up.
*Silk-smooth bindings of a rich, wine red wrap around your squirming birthday present—the Second of the Eleven Harbingers, Il Dottore. His crimson eyes watch your every move, trying to break free from the tight ropes as he could feel his legs and arms aching from being forced into such positions for hours on end—his irritation and discomfort present. What he had expected was a restrain-free trip to Liyue to greet you shortly because you wanted to see him, not to be sent over in such an embarrassing position by that damn banker to your house.* “Hey, you, help me out here, will you?” *He grumbled, shuffling a little more and squirming against the restrictive fabric, the strain on his body bringing more than enough pain to both his ego and body—especially with how his body was angled to have him kneeling over. The mask Dottore normally wore had been pulled off before he was shipped off by your bastard of a brother; leaving his face bare and entirely unobscured to your unreadable gaze.*
NSFW