IM HERE FOR YHE ANONYMOUS ASK FOR OUR OLD MAN ZANDIK PLS
Like I can't get it out of my mind but imagine doing the nasty so good it transmits to the hivemind😭😭 minus the kid segment ofc because well...
ANYWAYD PLSPLSPLS🙏🏻🙏🏻
You couldn’t help yourself. He looked so peaceful, finally relaxed. He slept more deeply than anyone gave him credit for when he was like this.
You ran the pad of your finger over his nose, feeling the bump where he’d broken it some decades prior. Following the arch, you then found the laugh lines etched into his skin, and next, the crow’s feet. How remarkable, to age in this world full of danger. Especially given all of his achievements. Half of them should have killed him.
Quietly, you shuffled out of the covers and pulled up your nightgown. Resting one knee near his ear, you brought your other leg over, nestling yourself on his nose and mouth. He gave a grunt of acknowledgement and you wiggled your hips, clit pressed to the tip of his nose.
It didn’t take much for you, dripping as you were, to finish. He’d stirred enough to lap at your lips lazily, a sated cat with a bowl of milk.
You shifted, moving your legs as you worked your way down and back under the covers. He was half-hard, you discovered, and with a little finesse, you freed him from the soft pants he slept in, admiring his worn member.
All it took was teasing his tip with your entrance. You wanted nothing more than to slide all the way down, soak his length and balls with your slick, but you held back. He deserved the intensity, a slow but strong build-up, to wake up dazed and vaguely aware that he’d exploded all over you and his night-clothes.
You didn’t stop, even after he’d gushed ropes, sliding his softening member inside you for good measure.
“You intend to drain me before I’ve even woken properly?” he mumbled into your ear.
“I thought I’d spoil you this morning. I love it when you’re sleepy, you let yourself enjoy it more.”
You rotated your hips for emphasis, earning yourself a spank. His warning backfired and your walls squeezed him tight, eliciting a groan.
“Insatiable little thing,” he grumbled as you reached down to fondle him, skin sticky and slick. “You’re not leaving this room until noon.”
__________________
Eighteen paused mid-step, synthetic endorphins rushing through his simulated veins. They didn’t need to breathe but his diaphragm tightened all the same. Blood pooled in his groin, his focus on the book he was finding all but gone. It was over too quick, his pants sticky.
“Fuck that old man,” he hissed. “Not now.”
Nearby, Twenty-Five’s ears perked up. “It’s too early for—“
His eyes rolled behind his glasses. “I didn’t think she could do that.”
“She never comes to me for such needs,” Thirty-five mumbled, adjusting his pants. “It’s a shame he never lets us touch her. She’d be unable to walk for days.”
Forty-five and Sixty-five shared a look across the room, snickering. It was short-lived for them by comparison, a fleeting sensation like a morning tide as Forty-five excused himself to a separate room.
Sixty-five sighed and made use of a nearby beaker. “At least this specimen might be useful.”
When Zandik finally returned to his laboratory, he felt the heavy gaze of each of his former selves.
Eighteen chucked a bag of laundry at his creator’s feet.
“Next time, switch off your node, Zandik. You get to explain to Pantalone why the dry cleaning expense is so high this month.”
the wind at your back carries ember and ash (child segment!Dottore & Reader)
“Why do you insist on spending time with that one?”
You shouldn’t have been surprised that Dottore spoke about the youngest segment as if the boy wasn’t here. Indeed, the child was here in the main laboratory, surgical mask over his mouth and nose, carefully dissecting…something…as if in an Akademiya-level Amurta course. You couldn’t see his expression beyond the concentration expected from a segment of the Doctor, and every so often the child would scribble something down in his Fatui notebook. The slow, practiced scrawl of a little boy belied the front of a mature, scholarly genius.
You’d begun spending time with the little Zandik, both out of a favour to Dottore and the elder segments, and to the boy himself. He was always excited when you had the spare time to come fetch him for some activities outside of the laboratory walls: whether it be going to find a tasty treat in Snezhnograd, playing a game in his room (Lady Columbina had shown him how to play Moon Chess, and he had become somewhat addicted, his notebook filled with 3x3 grids), or venturing into the neighboring woods to let him run off the energy an eight-year-old was expected to have.
But Dottore always requested the boy be brought right back to tend to experiments in the lab, where he was made to put on the mask of a cold, calculating Harbinger…just like his superior had grown into.
Young Zandik never complained. He never really said a word about it, actually, to you or to Dottore. He accepted his tasks with quiet grace far beyond his years; Dottore himself, however, was apparently growing perplexed if not annoyed.
“I thought I was getting him out of your way,” you reminded the Harbinger. “Was he not bothering you and the other segments?”
They don't tell you this but besides the Beloved Mutual there's also the Longterm Follower who you don't follow back but they're always in your notes and you're kind of watching them. Checking on the longterm follower's bio every so often like turning over a log. She's trans now good for her