Dottore is sick and tired of his segments demanding his significant other attention. So he does the only logical thing. He creates segments of you!
(She/her)Reader.
SFW mostly. Allusions to underage sex and suggestive themes!
He starts with the youngest 8. Since that boy is deeply in need of a friend but very antisocial, he creates the 11 year old of you. You told him you were still very playful at that age but already independent in most aspects. So he was certain that it was a good match. He was right. The moment the two met, it instantly clicked. 8 was serious for his age but still needy and somewhat helpless. His nose was always in a book, not paying attention to his surroundings. Before he would walk into things or forget his need to eat or take breaks. That's where 11!reader would come in handy. The taller girl would pull him on his sleeve or hold his hand while walking around. She would make him snack platters and call him for dinner. She was nice to him while he talked about his current interests and urged him to tell her more on the playground outside, which was rarely used before she came. The idea of a playground was the OG!Reader's idea. She hoped 8 would spend more time outside, but without a friend, it never happened. OG!Reader was happy the pair got along so well and was very doting on the two.
Next was 18. Dottore remembered when you told him that at 13, you questioned everything you knew, and by the time you were 16, you were very much radicalized and critical of the world and its systems. Dottore thought 18 and 16!Reader was a good idea. He was wrong. He forgot about his misogynistic ideologies he had in his mind at 18. It was a product of his loneliness and his inability to approach girls. He never acted out on them or openly stated them since he never had one to blame for his issues at that age, someone he deemed lower than him, that is. So when 18 met 16!Reader he thought he found the perfect victim. He was wrong, too. 16!Reader was fierce and violent in her words. She basically would shred him apart verbally with her intellect and wits. She couldn't stand him at all. His ignorance and arrogance made her want to puke, and she made her disdain of him very clear. You could only feel sorry for him, so OG!Reader would pull him aside when she had enough of the fights and occasional screaming fits. OG!Reader and 18 had a long talk, where she figured out his actual issues and worked with 18 through them. He didn't get everything from the get-go but that was okay. He could always seek out OG!Reader or any other older!Reader to ask questions about what he has done wrong this time. The needs for these talks got less and less as time moved on. And you could now see him reading classic feminist and anticapitalistic literature. You could also see small spots on 18 and 16!readers neck, which made you giggle and, of course, made you avoid their rooms when you heard loud music playing. Looks like Dottore didn't get the memo, though. Because you saw him walk into 18!'s room without knocking followed quickly by a "GET OUT MAN" "WTF DUDE". These teenagers would be the death of him surely.
Now to 25. He was a proper young man now, fully focused on his research and other scientific topics. He doesn't have time for romance or friendships and spends his time alone in solitude. He doesn't mind it, and there is no anger like 18 had. He fully made peace with this lifestyle and is very content with it. Dottore asked you what age would fit 25 best. You smiled and said 22 with no further explanation. You were so confident that Dottore immediately got to work with no questions asked. And now that he sees 25 and 22!Reader, he absolutely understands why. 22!Reader was a gentle thing, a bit meek in personality but still bright nonetheless. They fitted perfectly together. 25 saw 22!Reader as a great enrichment in his life. They had pleasant conversations, and while he offered her stability and confidence in compliments, she gave him affection and admiration in return. It didn't take long for them to move out into their own apartment, where 25 would continue to work on his research and support 22!Reader to continue their university education. It turned out, as OG!Reader explained to Dottore, that 22!Reader had been burned out a while ago. The cause was her boyfriend she had at 19, who was no good. He used her in selfish ways. He made her complete his studies and work on projects where he would only write down his own name. He isolated her from friends while he continued to spend time with his and other girls, completely downplaying her concerns and needs and making her look like the crazy one. Dottore wished to build a time machine to kill that fucker himself.
Now to the hardest part. 65. That man was so bitter and grumpy, Dottore wasn't sure that giving him his own reader would even work. But he sat all hope for 50!Reader. Dottore has outdone himself with her. He had to look into the future for 50!Reader and made her how he was sure she would turn into that age. Luckily, 65 was smitten with her. She was still in blossom of life, beautiful and aged like fine wine. She had an amazing, fun-loving personality and humor that melted 65 stoic demeanor. (Think of her like Gloria from modern family or aunt May from TH!Spiderman and him like Jay from Modern Family or grunkle Stan from Gravity Falls). He was so mean before he met her. Always picking on the youngest segments and ruining everyones moods with his negativity and selfishness. That changed when she came around. She always made sure to keep him incheck and would apologize for his harsh behavior that would occasionally still slip out. It wasn't simply for the men in his age who would shoot him envious glares when he would show his younger spouse off, who the years have also treated kindly. It was because he even liked himself more with her (like everyone else did), that he made sure she was always close by. (He would still make people trip over his walking crane, especially 45 who would eye his Reader like a hungry animal).
It seemed like Dottore’s plan worked in the end! Or so he thought. It didn't take long for 50!Reader to fall into the habit of planning dinners and her so-called "family gatherings" which his significant other would force him to participate in. Always with the kids, who still lived at their home. He once suggested that kicking the annoying brats out, but you glared at him and threatened to kick him out if he ever suggested it again. Those were your babies! And you actually loved the idea of having a family like this with him, with something similar to grandparents you could visit with your own bundles of joy and also made sure to invite the two love birds that had their own nest away from home. Since you were so happy and Dottore could never deny you a wish, he played along. And so did his segments to make their own halfs happy.
45 first refused his own segment reader, but afterward demanded one after seeing everyone so happy. Dottore denied him and told him he could play the weird and absent uncle. He was mad.
The inspiration for this was what I, and possibly others, have experienced during childhood :3
You were Dottore’s only daughter, his one non-clone, non-experimental, actually-human child. Usually Iota, Beta, and even Dottore himself took care of you whenever they were free, but the Doctor had decided it would be a good idea to let the other segments learn how to care for you as well so you could grow accustomed to them.
It was a terrible idea.
Theta, Delta, and Omega had taken 'looking after the child' as their sacred secondary directive. They treated it like field research. They were very bad at field research when said field was how to parent a six-year-old girl without causing permanent psychological damage.
Iota mostly watched from the doorways, making sure the trio assigned to you hadn’t accidentally killed you in the process. Though he had originally been against the whole arrangement of having to take care of you, especially since he was the first to babysit you. Over time he had grown fond of you, so fond that he would poison anyone who dared make you cry. He always stayed in the background, quietly ensuring your safety.
Now it was time to see how well the three segments would perform today.
----------
The bedroom door banged open at precisely 7:00 a.m.
''Subject is stirring!'' Theta announced with a grin as he walked inside your room. He was already wearing mismatched socks and a lab coat he had stolen from Sigma.
Delta walked in behind him, scrolling through a tablet and looking over the list of chores. ''You’re going to give her nightmares before breakfast. Again.'' he muttered.
Omega simply stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he looked you over. ''Pulse and respiration appear normal. We may proceed.'' he stated calmly.
They surrounded the bed like it was a crime scene.
Theta yanked the blanket off you with the enthusiasm of someone unveiling a new invention. He leaned over your bed, red eyes staring into yours. ''Good morning, little variable. Did you achieve optimal REM cycles?'' he asked brightly.
You blinked sleepily up at the three identical yet very different blue-haired men and nodded at the question.
Delta could only sigh in exasperation. ''She’s not a variable, idiot. She’s a kid. Say ‘good morning’ like a normal person would.'' he grumbled.
''I am saying good morning like an exceptional person.'' Theta retorted with a grin, which made you giggle in response.
From the hallway came Dottore’s low, tired voice. ''If any of you make her cry before coffee, I will reformat your memory banks tonight.'' he warned.
The segments froze.
''He’s bluffing...'' Theta whispered to the other two.
''He reformatted me last month for eating the last croissant. He’s not bluffing.'' Delta muttered under his breath.
----------
They decided to make pancakes for breakfast since you had requested them.
Theta dumped glowing blue batter into the pan. ''I added extra electrolytes for brain development!'' he declared proudly.
It immediately started smoking and sparking.
Omega grabbed a fire extinguisher. ''I told you not to add anything else to the batter. I literally told you thirty seconds ago. I even said the recipe to you.'' he said flatly.
Delta calmly poured milk over the flaming pan like he was conducting an experiment. The milk also caught fire.
You watched wide-eyed from your booster seat as the three men moved around the kitchen.
Omega let out a sigh as he watched Theta and Delta bicker. He told the two to stand in the corner as he rolled his sleeves up his arms. ''Stand back. I shall prepare a nutritionally optimized meal.'' he announced.
He ended up making oatmeal. Plain oatmeal. With a single sad strawberry on top for visual stimulation.
You stared at it with furrowed brows. This is definitely not the pancakes you asked for.
Theta ate a spoonful of the oatmeal and fell to the floor, dramatically twitching and gagging. ''The horror… the blandness… eugh.'' he wailed theatrically.
You took a small spoonful of the oatmeal before pushing the bowl away from you, clearly not liking how bland and flavorless it was. Delta added a bit too much of honey and more fruits that had been chopped with surgical precision.
''There. Now it has… character,'' he said, satisfied.
Beta appeared in the doorway, already holding a clean mixing bowl. Without a word he took over, silently remixing pancake batter that wasn’t poisoned or bland. Two minutes later there were normal, golden pancakes on your plate.
The segments stared in betrayed silence as they watched you happily eat the food.
''Show off…'' Theta whispered as he gave Beta a small glare.
-----------
Hygiene protocol began.
Omega lifted you onto the step stool. Delta held the giant hourglass timer. Theta brandished the toothbrush like a sword.
''Open wide for maximum plaque annihilation!'' Theta exclaimed.
He went in hard. Really hard. The brush head practically jackhammered your molars. Foam exploded out the sides of your mouth like a rabid raccoon.
You gagged.
Delta immediately grabbed Theta’s wrist. ''You’re going to make her throw up..'' he warned.
''I’m being thorough!'' Theta protested, still brushing.
Omega tried to take over with clinical detachment. He brushed in perfect circles at approximately… 400 RPM. Your cheeks puffed out from the pressure.
You made a small, distressed “mmph!”
Iota appeared behind them like a ghost. He plucked the toothbrush from Omega’s hand mid-stroke.
''Enough." he ordered.
He knelt, tilted your chin gently, and brushed with the slow, careful strokes of someone who actually understood human mouths were not machinery.
When he finished he wiped your chin with his sleeve and murmured, ''There. No permanent trauma.''
Theta pouted. ''We were only at 87% plaque removal efficiency…''
''You were almost brushing her tongue off, idiot!'' Iota hissed in reply.
Omega handed you a cup of water to gurgle and spit out the rest of the toothpaste while he glanced at the others. ''We’re all going to get reported to the Tsaritsa for child endangerment via dental hygiene if we keep this up.'' he observed dryly.
----------
This routine was the part the segments were proudest of. It was also the part that made you quietly consider running away to Natlan.
You sat on a stool in front of the mirror. All three of them crowded around like it was a group surgery.
Theta started brushing your hair. He hit every single knot like he was tenderizing meat. You could only hiss in pain as he continued.
Delta tried next. ''Hold still. I watched someone do this while I was out in town.'' he said confidently. He yanked so hard your head snapped back.
Omega attempted symmetry. He pulled the left pigtail so tight your eye watered, then did the exact same thing to the right. Both sides were now painfully high and lopsided. One bow was upside down. The other was somehow knotted into itself.
You looked in the mirror and saw a girl who appeared to have lost a fight with a wind spirit.
The segments stepped back proudly.
''Iconic.'' Theta declared, hands on his hips.
''It’s… avant-garde.'' Delta stated.
''Statistically, only 14% of children enjoy symmetrical hairstyles anyway.'' Omega hummed thoughtfully.
Beta passed by the doorway, only to walk back and stare wide-eyed at the mess the trio had made. The segment could only shake his head as he walked over to lend his assistance.
He sat you on the vanity, undid the entire disaster in thirty seconds flat, then braided two perfect, soft, even pigtails. He added little blue ribbons that Dottore definitely didn’t buy he definitely did.
''Better.'' Beta said with a small smile.
The segments could only glare at Beta from behind.
----------
And now it was time to dress you up.
Theta wanted maximum frills.
Delta wanted something nice, which somehow meant putting you in the same outfit he has on that was way too big on you.
Omega insisted on practicality and thermal regulation, which meant layering you in so many shirts you looked like a marshmallow.
They compromised by force.
You ended up in a frilly dress with an oversized jacket over your shoulders. Your neck was wrapped with three scarves and your feet wore snow boots despite being indoors.
Dottore walked in, took one look, and started peeling each layer of clothing off you like he was defusing a bomb.
Five minutes later you were in a simple dress, soft leggings, and one correctly-sized scarf.
He didn’t even comment. He just patted your head once and left.
''He’s showing off too…'' Theta whispered.
----------
They attempted to teach you lessons throughout the rest of the day. Theta demonstrated 'safe' chemical reactions that were definitely not safe. Delta taught you how to use a scalpel and how much pressure was needed to cut through skin. Omega tried to explain advanced calculus using finger puppets.
By evening, all four of you were exhausted.
Omega carried you to bed. Delta and Theta trailed behind like ducklings.
Tucking you in was an event. They pulled the blankets so tight you could barely move. For thermal efficiency and security, as they said.
Dottore appeared in the doorway, walked over, and gently pried their hands away to loosen the blankets and tuck them properly around you. He sat on the edge of your bed as he turned to glare at the three.
The segments hovered like scolded puppies, avoiding their creator’s gaze.
You glanced over at the segments and reached out for all of them. Dottore watched your actions and sighed as he gave a nod to the trio.
The segments piled in carefully. Theta curled up like a cat beside you, earning a glare from Dottore to which he ignored. Omega pretended to read on the chair beside your bed but was really watching over you. Delta took the spot at the foot of your bed, making himself comfortable.
Once you were all settled, Dottore read you a chapter from an old Fontaine fairy tale book. His voice was low, calm, almost gentle, lulling you to sleep. When your eyes started to droop, he leaned down and pressed the lightest kiss to your forehead.
''Sleep well, little one. May your dreams be kind tonight..'' he murmured as he stood up and gave the segments a long look that said ‘protect her or be scrapped’ before leaving the room.
You fell asleep to the sound of quiet bickering and hissing from the segments as they argued about the optimal number of goodnight kisses they should give you and where they should be placed. They eventually settled on:
Omega kissing your hand once.
Delta kissing your temple once.
Theta kissing your cheek, forehead, and nose three times each. He had to be pulled back by Delta and Omega because he might disturb your sleep.
''You guys are rude. Let me show the little variable my affection. You both are just jealous that I might get the best segment title from her.'' Theta quietly cackled in response to the glares Delta and Omega were giving him.
Just first wanted to say I LOVE YOUR ART A SPECIALLY OF DOTTORE AND HIS SEGMENT
If it's not much (and probably not original but) could you make a il Dottore x male reader who's like more emotionally intelligent than academic intelligent and so express himself through poetry maybe but like not the current Dottore but when he was in still in the academia of Sumery and before he went nuts and killed Soreh ?
Tbh I know that back then a specially he wouldn't be so emotionally open but it may have made him kind of emotionally immature if you know what I mean :3
Have a nice day !!!!!!
Broken Record - Akedemia Zandik x Reader [8k]
Cw. SFW, getting to know each other fluff, he falls and gets attached. The two are smitten for each other after bickering a lil, domestic college life, and then things start going downhill quickly. then Angst. [Chose not to add anymore warnings]
He/him and you/your pronouns use for Reader
Originally, it was just the above prompt - then as I was going to post, I heard wind of the update having a large Dottore lore drop. waited for that to drop, and now it's an 8k lore heavy exploration/speculation fic. Thank you for waiting! and i, of course, added art :] some Headcanons are in tags - they are spoilers, but i will gladly elaborate them as usual in asks. and this does use my old writing style in some parts. [Dottore Masterlist]
[“You wake amid bursts of darkness” By Hélène Dorion - Translated By Susanna Lang] - Poem at the end
In retrospect, you should have listened to Sohreh when she first told you about the guy
‘He's handsome’ she gushed to you as the two of you promenaded the steep inclines of the lower parts of the Akedemia as the sun started to dip, it was already late, far too late for you to still be out and about. Losing track of time at the newest tavern within the overgrowth of the divine tree with the excited red-haired woman beside you ‘not like, handsome handsome- more like… cutesy handsome!’
‘you're calling this grown man… cutesy' you eye her with a look of amusement ‘how’d he take it’
‘psh- he'd probably combust if I did say that to his face.’ she laughs ‘I wouldn't actually say it to his face, he's not bad- its just we don't have much common ground’
she took your arm and sighed ‘hes smart though, insanely so’
‘He's the first multi darshan student from the desert, right?’
she hummed positively ‘So you can see why im so excited to be able to do a joint project with him.’ She lights up when you both pass a dimly lit stall, pulling you aside to begin waiting in line ‘you should join us on our next expedition! He won't be back until after his current thesis is complete, something about research for that God named Deshret by one of the pyramids’
‘I think they call him King Deshret, actually’ All you could do in response is laugh at her suggestion. After all, the Akedemia was never a sanctuary for you in the first place.
not with the students, dressed in their straight cut uniforms, soft features, and looking like they'd never taken a step outside of the school they'd worshipped
out of all the things for them to stare so judgementally for - you'd never thought it'd be because of the golden lyre on your hip and a book not meant for education in hand
to live in Sumeru yet not pursue the said wisdom the nation beheld
blasphemous (heretic)
‘What's even this mysterious students’ name?’ You question her when she turns back from the vendor, candied Ajilenkah nuts acquired
‘oh, I didn't say? it's-’
“Zandik.” The short curly, dusty pasteled haired man muttered, a suspicious glare held over the edge of the numerous tombs in his arms, he had a lisp and when you perk up at the name he shrinks, licking his chapped lips. a nervous quirk you could spot from a mile away ‘were those teeth of his pointed?’
“Zandik Sneznavich…” your eyes flicker up from his mouth back up to his narrowed crimson eyes
you're quiet as you continue staring at him, the guy- Zandik, growing increasingly more uncomfortable
“Look. I know how to scan through the books myself” he growls out lowly “just let me through so I can-”
“You're the cute boy.” you blurt out loud so suddenly, head tilting as you finally recognise the name “Sohrehs’ told me about you. nice to meet you, Zandik.”
he freezes, body growing rigid and his head snapping up to yours as his face grows dark and he jerks away from you almost offended
“wh- Sohreh?” he splutters “what are you talking about?”
“yeah, you definitely sound like the guy she mentioned, kinda awkward but handsome, you're her partner in Amurta, no?” you hold out your hands “let me take those”
he looks at you blankly, still shell shocked before he's tentatively handing over the pile and watching you flip open the tomes to their backs, scribbling down the books code into your log
‘ding’
“She thinks I'm cute?” he blurts out
your eyes flicker up, instead of a flushed expression you expect to see when someone hears they being called cute his face is twisted into a grimace of a barely hidden look of disgust, a tiny glimmer of fear in his ruby eyes albeit smothered with doubt
“Wow.” You say dryly “you don't have to look that off put by it.”
‘ding.’
he rolls his eyes awkwardly, lifting his palm to cover his mouth, angling his face away “maybe she should have thought twice about making the joke”
you raise a brow “...joke?”
‘ding.’
you ring up the last book, neatening the stack before sliding it over
“Yes.” he hisses, snatching them, though he almost topples over due to the speed he grabs them by “honestly- cruel jokes about the physical attributes of your associates are in poor taste. especially one she has to work with on a day to day basis.”
his attitude, his aura- you couldn't help but emit a soft laugh at his attempts at covering the embarrassment that seeps from his blocked pores, furthering his look of insecurity
“no!” you hold up your hand, ignoring the small flinch he gives “no- I mean it, you are cute.”
you look him over again and smile “besides wouldn't you think it'd be hard for me to pick you out from the hundreds of students that come through just by the descriptor of ‘cute?’”
he searches your face for any hint of deception, or any falsities but all he can see is your wandering eyes, relaxed demeanor and attractive smile
he chokes on his breath, cheeks warming
your grin widens “maybe i should call you just handsome instead? it fits”
“Goodbye.” You watch as he turns on his heels and speeds away from you and your desk. you snort when he bumps into a few students, stumbling back and barking at them to get out of his way
○-○
The books become abandoned on his bedside table. knelt by his bed, he buries his face into his hands.
“what a joke…” he grumbles, eyes rolling back as he recounts your first conversation.
he'd seen you before. rather- hed watched you roam the halls with an air of [what he thought was] arrogance. you held your head high despite the faculty having a clear distaste for you
he'd listened to your songs down at the tavern during the nights he'd thought back to his family, both the dearly departed and the one he'd been given in recent years.
he was old enough to shed himself of the house. too old to stick around in his opinion. He was not an operative [an eremite], he was a scholar, someone proper - someone decidingly not born to travel alongside them, he's someone to be chased away.
he deflates, wishing he could replay the day, maybe talk to you without making a fool of himself. or better yet, have you forget it entirely.
a sudden creak echoes from his door, causing him to lock up and fall back on his ass, blue hair puffing up like a cloud when his head turns. and like a rhinehorn doe under a beam of moonlight, he freezes
It looks like him.
he lifts a trembling hand, and it mimics his action with a wide uncanny grin. longer hair, an outfit from the Enkanomiyan age, a large arc hanging over its back
he it looked like a monster
Zandik stares dubiously at the mirror image in front of him, stock still as this thing circles him from behind. it looked like him, spoke like him but-
“Confused?” it says softly, leaning towards him with its back straight “I would be if i were you, oh wait-” it grins before whispering into his ear “I am.”
“I dont…” his voice cracks, embarrassed he turns from the figure to hide his face
“You don't need to say anything, Creator.” the thing says dryly “all you need to know, is not to trust. anyone.”
he listens and stays silent, rolling the sentence in his head
“The Akedemiya is not your ally. The Archon is not your ally.” he drops his head “The librarian… well...”
“Well?” Zandik snaps “are you going to tell me all they've said is-”
“true.” the figure chirps “the bard, the poet, the king - out of all of them, they're the only one left.”
Zandik scoffs “why should I even believe you.”
“You're right to doubt me, but when has this school ever helped you? truly helped you, Zandik?”
he looks down, contemplating the mimics’ words
“I don't have much time left here” he watches as their hand waves, a large tear forming behind him, it pats him on the shoulder “Farewell, Zandik. I truly hope you manage to find your way”
“Who are you.”
it merely grins, plucking a solitude feather from the plume on his left shoulder and tucking it into his hair
“A God.” it grins maliciously "Don't lose it- you wouldn't want to forget me, now do you?”
you scratch in another entry to your notes, then turn back to the lyre, restarting the soft tune and plucking at the strings
“you'd think you wouldn't be able to do that here.” You glance up to see Zandik's face, 6 months have quickly come and gone since that fateful meeting, and still, he's as quiet as ever when approaching your desk
“the booths fairly soundproof” you counter
“that's..” he glares at the lyre before back up at your face “not what i meant.”
“Are you going to report me, pretty boy?”
he turns rigid again, slamming his books onto the desk “Don't. Call me that, we've gone over this”
‘ding’
“I’m just telling you the truth” you counter with a smile reading the title of the next, ‘Liyuen Topography and landscapes’ “‘lost in the vague geography of words, where we find ourselves again’ or something along those lines”
he face tints darker, making your smile widen, lowering your gaze to focus on his books as he weakly protests with a “you're ridiculous.” Under his breath
“I think… you just don't like hearing nice things about yourself and you're the one who seems to recognise the prose.”
‘ding’
“or am I wrong?”
when you hear no response you look up, sliding his books back over but- “Zandik?”
your eyes flicker back and forth “he left. again” you huff. Glancing back at the abandoned books with a deflated grumble “great.”
○-○
“I don't know why you're willingly carrying them around every time he ditches you.” Sohreh says, prodding at the bulging backpack “you look like you're going on an expedition yourself!”
“He fled from the library, and I couldn't clock them back in” you groan, hands tight around the straps “not without his akasha…”
“you can just contact him with your own”
“You say that as if i have his terminal number”
“a shame.” she giggles, dancing around and stopping you in your path “mnn, If only one of us did, gaaasp, it looks like there is!” you raise a brow at her theatrics
“...and you'd just give me it”
“Well, yeah!” she shrugs “He said i could use it if i needed to get in contact about our project”
you narrow your eyes
“...and you could say those books are relevant to the parameter he’s set”
“you could get us in so much trouble for this” you mutter “sharing terminal data like this is banned you know, and Zandik seems like the type who would be willing to file a report”
she snorts “Him? no. he wouldn't report it.”
“really” you look doubtful
“you didn't hear it from me but…” she leans down and whispers into your ear, grasping at your arm to pull you in “He's a trouble maker- some of his personal projects don't exactly follow the Akedemia rules”
“That nerds’ a trouble maker?” The words don't feel like they fit all too nicely in your mouth
“kind of.” She says cheerily “teachers dont like him, sages dont like him- grand sage definitely doesn't like him. But he's made a name for himself here among students!”
she spreads her arms out, flexing “he acts all high and mighty, not wanting to interact with any of us but he's really an alright guy.”
you bat her away laughing
“last year, a few students and i surprised him with a cake! he was so taken aback” she laughs merrily “i think he even cried a little”
“Wow.” you look at her with mirth “i'll keep that in mind then. Give me his terminal number.”
she unhooks her terminal, and after a few moments, your own pings, and you nod in thanks
“I'll meet you at the house of Deana after my afternoon classes!” she skips ahead, waving goodbye, leaving you yourself
you wave back and quietly make your way to Puspa tavern, finding a booth and settling into a private corner. You nod to the owner and eye the small stage, there's a few other already in line to perform so instead you spend the time to enter in the new number
you smile as it connects, Zandik's name flashing in the corner of your eye.
you click his icon, a red dot pulsing. it connects after a few moments
“Hel-”
“Hey there, Pretty boy.” you call into the headset, a cheeky grin spreading onto your face when you hear him screech when the terminal suddenly cuts off
“...hello?”
○-○
he stares down in disbelief.
‘broken.’ he prods at the cracked case, electro wires and dendro casing sparking at the touch making him hiss in protest. sticking his pointer into his mouth to ease the sting if briefly
‘he-hey there pretty- pretty boy.’ he growls as the device repeats its last words. he kicks the scraps across his dorm, snatching his key card and storming out of his room
the door slams behind him as he stalks off to find you
‘The library’ he lifts his wrist, peering at his ratty old wrist watch and hisses under his breath ‘you're on the night shift tonight. You wouldn’t be there yet.’
he skips down the stairs of the dormitories, meshing into the streets and blending in with the crowd ‘downstairs?’ he only needs one glance to see the dense crowd to tell you're not down in the Zubayr theatre
‘the markets-’ no. he shakes his head immediately, your voice had come out clear, no infectious babbling from some old crone chatting into your ear about him or you.
‘The tavern?’ maybe. it had been quiet but not overtly so. and so he changed direction, speeding towards the half empty building. He spotted you immediately. Putting on an irritated look, he slams his hands down onto your table and hisses into your ear
“how did you get my terminal number.”
you perk up like a deaf dog at the sight of him, opening your arms and welcoming him with a smile while fully dimmissing his attitude “Zandik!” You cheer “you made it! sit, sit!”
he pulls a sour face until he sees his books piled in the corner of the booth
“my books…” he splutters
“you left them at the library earlier.” You grab the top one and hand it over “Sohreh let me have your number so i can return them. though you did cut me off before I could really say anything.” You eye the side of his head “where's your terminal?”
“I- you broke it.” he says quickly, slowly becoming embarrassed by his actions
“I broke it?” you raise a brow at him
“Yes. you did.” he's sticking to that lie
you don't seem too bothered by him pushing the blame onto you
“alright” you say cryptically “sit down.”
“what? no.” Zandik reaches over for the rest but you lightly slap his hand away
“You can have them after you have something to eat, skink.”
“are you blankmailing me” he frowns
“I'm not” you protest with a grin, "I'm paying you back.”
he squints down at you
“for breaking your akasha terminal, obviously.” You look over his shoulder and wave over the lost looking waiter, grabbing your number from the table and holding it out. He yelps as he's pushed into the booth by the waiter as he hobbles over and pushes trays onto the table, taking your number to confirm its contents.
Zandik stares startled at the movement, shuffling deeper in as the stranger plucks each of the plates off and centers them on the table
“feel free to dig in!” he cocks his head to the side
“what is all this” he utters weakly
“dinner.” you say with your mouth full, pinching off a decently sized piece of nan and scooping some of the butter chicken, holding it out to him “and breakfast tomorrow if we don't finish it all.”
he takes it from your hands dubiously, sneering down at the food “for all you know, i could be allergic”
“you’re not.” you state plainly “if you were you wouldn't be stealing my lunches from the shared room”
his cheeks flush. He grumbles and shoves the food into his mouth compliantly. chewing slowly to savour the flavours
all your words were true. sneaking bites from the numerous bags of food from random students from the communal room had been how he'd gotten away with living so easily if not frugally on his own. The hearth wouldn't sponsor him, but the credits and academic achievements would keep him housed away from the orphanage.
he'd also gotten in trouble not too long ago. Both you and Sohreh were present when he was reprimanded. when you subtly stepped to the side and dragged your fridge cubbie to the front for him to see, for him to find.
a silent allowance.
‘you'd made yourself comfortable’ he notes as he plucks off another bit of nan, dipping it into one of the few other dishes present ‘how loathsome.’
“I have no idea what you mean” he says just as cryptically. You laugh at his words
he stares at your lips ‘no one laughs at my jokes…’
“apart from holding my books hostage.” he utters “...what have you been up to?”
you smile happily, resting your chin on your palm.
○-○
your bob you head as you finish up for the night, a book slipping from your hand into its spot on a shelf. making your way down the locked ladder back to the solid ground, it's not difficult to become giddy at the prospect of seeing Zandik again.
you've finally accepted to join him and Sohreh on one of their expeditions.
saying they ‘needed muscle', at least that was what Zandik muttered under his breath as Sohreh happily clapped
‘Zandik wont let me hire the Eremites’ that're in town for protection!’ she cries dramatically ‘they even had a discount for cute girls like me’
‘And am I any better?’ you questioned half heartedly gesturing to yourself ‘I'm hardly a warrior.’
‘Yeah, but look at Zandik’ she pokes him in the side, a sad expression painted on her face ‘can you see him going against anything bigger than an aranara?’
he bats her away with a huff ‘I'll have you know I’ve dissected things larger than you when I was a child.’
‘Doubtful.’ she quips
'Doubtful.' he retorts in a high pitched voice mocking her
The library was far from empty, private rooms littered along the rooms were sealed as numerous students filled the spaces to ready themselves for the upcoming exams. Soundproofed to the best of their ability for such an echoey corridor
but for you, the poor solitude librarian. It was time to pack up and head home. with your bag in hand and lights lowered you head for the doors
“Just a moment!” you pause at the soft voice, head arched behind you. you raise a brow at the empty space before your gaze drops to see a little girl.
you frown and look around suspiciously ‘a little girl?’ she looked dirty, panic stricken and a little beaten
you kneel immediately as she runs up to you, she almost trips on the way “c-can you help me?” she whispers
you look her over and nod hesitantly. she looks frail and tiny, it takes you a second to respond verbally, more concerned with how she got in and how long she'd been wandering the halls
“Are you alright kid?” you say gently, lifting a hand to brush the hair from her forehead and noting how she briefly retracts from your touch, then melts when your skin touches hers. There's a faint hum coming from her, her pudgy fingers grabbing yours desperately ‘she acts just like him.’
“how did you get in?” you question softly.
“please” she mutters “we need to leave, it’s not safe in here, the guards will hurt me”
you frown but gesture to pick her up regardless. She, unlike you, doesn't hesitate, willingly climbing into your arms the moment you offer it.
She was scarily light. bundling up your coat, you drape it around her form and speed out of the hall, “Are you lost?” You murmur, using a hand to press your akasha to the door in order to be let out “Where's home kid?”
She stays quiet, picking at the old matted fur on your jacket, a gift from Zandik.
“here.” she respond quieter “please don't let them take me back, i don't wanna go back.”
you look down at her doubtfully, but don't comment on it “are you one of the sages’ kids?”
she shakes her head
“... A student?”
It wasn't unheard of someone looking this young becoming a student, but even looking at her- no uniform, barefoot. there was no way those pompous asses would let her into the lecture hall if they even attempted to ban you because of the lyre on your hip.
she shakes her head again, burying herself into your stomach whenever you pass one of the guards, you nod to them, a familiar routine after the night shifts.
“well… I'm not sure what you want me to do.” you say to her once the guard is out of earshot "There's a traveling merchant group? they're a local tribe, I can give you off to them, they're known for taking in lost kids.”
she shakes her head more adamantly “I can't leave the divine tree.”
your purse your lips
“Can I stay with you?”
“no.” you say flatly “i'm…” your brow creases, a headache forming. you trip over your own feet, pausing to gain your footing “I don't even know why i picked you up. Why did I do that?”
she grabs your face, the tips of her fingers glowing green. flowers illuminating in her irises “im sorry.” she whispers “please, take me home.”
you stare down at her silently. arms tightening around her and heading forwards once more. head in nothing more than a hazy state.
○-○
‘Knock, knock’
Zandik jumps at the sound of knocking on his dorm room door. He stares at it for a moment. Turning back to his book and electing to ignore the midnight disturbance.
‘Thump!’ he groans, dropping his book onto his bed and unfurling himself from his covers. ‘Thump! Thump!’
“I'm coming!” he yells over the increased noise at his door, fumbling to pull on his socks and stumbling over to the entry, unlocking the knob and throwing it open with an unimpressed look on his face. It quickly turns to surprise then worry when he sees you stumble forth, eyes half lidded.
“what are you doing here so laaaa-” his voice trails off when his red eyes drop to the thing attached to your stomach “what is that.”
you push past him quietly, entering his room and heading for his bed
“h-hey!” he squeaks, slamming the door closed with his foot and running for his covers, stopping you from getting any closer to the crux of his mess, covering his book and leading you to the table and chair set he'd brought not too long ago for your study dates
he eyes you with concern, a spike of fear flickering onto his face when you don't respond to his push and pulls
“Hello?” he tried again. no response.
he drops his crimson eyes to the girl once more, looking her over with scrutiny “what did you do, brat.”
she frowns at him, looking up to you instead “I told you to take me home.”
“we are.” you say emotionlessly. Zandik recoils at the way you sound.
“but..” she trails off
your gaze lifts to land on Zandik “Home.”
he feels his cheeks flood with blood at your candid admission. the girl frowns, however, finger poking at her own cheek
“hmmn.” she looks at him dubiously “You're his home?”
“me?” he sneers. “Don't look at me like that, what have you done to my-” ‘boyfriend.’ is the first thing he wants to say. but he stops himself, “to my… friend.”
“He's helping me.” she mutters “he's safe.”
“Well he doesn't want to help you anymore” he growls, reaching to prune her off of you "you're clearly not- urgh- not a good influence.”
Sadly for him, he's just as weak, thin arms unable to hook underneath of her own nor is he a match for your own stature because you're not letting her go. He huffs backing away briefly.
“who even are you?” he asks incredulously "I've never seen you around.”
she looks away
“and you don't look to be some poor rat that he picked up off the street either, your clothes radiate elemental resonance” he growls out becoming irritated at your lack of consciousness, irritated at this stranger's falsified appearance and her insistence to stick to you like a leech
he'd learned from hours of pouring his time into researching King Deshrets’ temples to be able to tell a mirage from just a look.
“Well?”
“The Akedemiya has been keeping me prisoner” she finally admits “he was the first person I could find”
his blood goes cold “what?” he whispers
“I-” she stutters, “the doors were locked. and I couldn't get through them”
his eyes slowly lift to the pulsing akasha terminal attached to your ear
“-so when i saw him going to the exit-”
“you idiot.” he whispers
she flinches harshly at the name
“You idiot!” he screeches, reaching to tear the device from your ear, tossing it to the floor and stamping onto it “do you know what you've just done, brat!”
the girl cries out as he brute forces himself between the two of you, finally separating her hold on you. She drops to the floor in a lump, a pained yelp falling from her lips and you tip forward toward him, he grunts as he catches you, trembling at your weight but managing to drag you to his bed.
“what do you mean” she says scared
“The akasha records everything. even without your permission, " he hisses, eyes snapping to hers ablaze “you fool. do you know what you've just-”
a loud piercing noise shoots into his skull. His hands fly to his ears. He drops to his knees and curls into a ball on the floor. In an instant he feels his emotions drain from his body, his body going lax.
he lays pliantly on his dorm room floor, eyes cracked open. that girl is crying, pushing at his shoulder with tears in her eyes.
It's so blurry. He feels so tired.
‘Blink!’
he lazily looks to the door as it opens
‘Blink!’ he shakes as he hears the annoying voice from earlier, that creature, that God.
he can't hear anything.
there's soft taps vibrating on the floor. The girl is thrashing, feral as she tries to escape
‘blink…’ visages of a battle play out before his mind, his hand dipping beneath his robe to the feather, clutching it as if reminded of its presence
he can only watch while your body is dragged along the floor, he can't see your face, but you're limp like him- he can't tell if you're breathing.
he reaches out, hands shaking
his door seels shut.
He's alone now.
He wakes up in his bed with a jolt, tucked in just how he likes it, book closed on his bedside table. He groans, feeling his head pound. He pats down himself in a daze, a habit he'd long since developed. his key card in his pocket, dagger on his thigh, Akasha- he frowns, patting at his ear
he unhooks it from his ear
didn't he…
he gasps, dropping it into his lap, images flashing through his mind and searing pain
‘you- where were you?’ he rushes to get dressed, his night robe from last night was fine- better than fine now he thinks about it. he feels uncomfortable as he lifts the hem and sniffs at it
‘clean.’
his hands tremble, disgusted. he does his laundry on thursdays. he looks to his calendar and stares at it
‘Wednesday.’ he drags his nail over the scribbled out days ‘but it should be Tuesday.’
his akasha. no, the imposter- rings deftly. He lets it tick over as he stares at the dates. how had he missed a day-
the imposter chimes again. he walks over and clicks it this time
“Zandik!” Sohrehs voice comes from the other side "I'm glad you picked up this time! you told me to remind you of our expedition today, are you ready for our exchange?”
he looks over to his scattered notes, he'd only gotten a third of the way through it last night
his brow pinches, the night before?
“I'll be there.” he grunts out “hey, have you heard from-” he says your name softly, it almost scares him at how quickly he’d gotten used to you, how often he's found himself searching for your presence
“Who?”
he freezes
○-○
It's gone.
he's scoured through the kitchens for the rest of your shared leftovers. Nothing.
your small little apartment on the corner of the divine tree? gone
your poems that you'd scattered across the city on message boards
It's all gone.
○-○
“what…” he frowns, twisting to turn to the woman with vacant eyes “what are you talking about, Sohreh?”
he looks down to the basket, the blanket - there's only two plates, two flasks. your stickers your seared into the side of the basket replaced with generic filth
“where is it?”
“Where's what?” she turns her head up him with a confused look
“dont play with me.” he spits, nose scrunching as he fumbles backwards away from her “where is he!”
she flinches back, her palm coming to her cheek as if to think on his words with a sincere look “...?”
‘no.’ he swallows as he himself jumps when she tries to reach for him, his eyes narrowing down. He feels sick. this cant be happening-
“Zandik, calm- calm down.” he slaps her hand away and bares his teeth
“Get away from me!” he screeches, voice cracking as he recoils, fingers digging into his short hair and ripping scraggly blue strands with ease “hah- hahha!”
Sohreh scrambles away from him with fear in her eyes, standing up and staring at him uncertainly
“Get away from me.” he says listlessly
“You’re confused.” she tries again “Lets get back to the akedemiya. Zand-”
“Dont call me that!” he yells thrashing out at her, with trembling hands he grabs his backpack and hauls it onto his back, stalking off hastily
“uh! wait!” Sohreh calls out, clutching her coat closer to herself and sighing
She looks dejectedly at the spread, kneeling down and carefully packing away her things “by the Archons” she mutters under her breath “what's got him so- crazed.”
apart from the chitter of the birds and the breeze wheezing past, she sits alone atop of the hill taking her time refolding the blanket. A branch cracks in the distance
she huffs “If you're returning to apologise Zandik, you're going to have to do a lot more than-”
she turns when a hand rests on her shoulder, her voice stopping as she glances down to the black gloves and lifting to stare fearfully at the woman who stands over her shoulder
sat curled in a ball at the head of his mattress, his head tucked between his knees. He shakes with silent tears streaming down his face, and Zandik stays silently staring at the singular spotted feather.
‘that damned feather.’ he sneers at the thing, raking his hand over his face, marking his face with thin lines
three days. he hadn't slept or eaten in three days. he was probably behind on his classes too, but he couldn't care less
he'd asked around for you the moment he stepped back into the Akedemiya halls, all throughout the house of Deana and even the marketplace.
nothing.
your desk?
gone.
your songs…
… he couldn't remember them.
his trembling fingers press into his busted akasha system, a remnant of the device he'd found lodged in the floor boards as he tore apart his room in a rage. He'd scrambled to the floor gasping for air as he saw the corner of it peak put
‘Hey there, Pretty boy’
that one phrase repeats like a haunted mantra
his last physical proof of your existence. Something was wrong. But there was nothing he could do
‘Hey there, Pretty boy’
he heaves one last stuttered breath before breaking down, this time loud sobs tearing from his throat
○-○
He looked like death. sunken eyes and his skin dry and ashy. He smelt of sickness, smelt like he'd sealed his fate with Eleazar. He felt like nothing. He dragged himself into his lecture room the following day, running on nothing but a loaf of bread and a glass of water.
He'd done more with less.
he collapsed into his usual seat and pulled out his books with a notable air of despair hanging over his head. Today, the whispers were louder and mutated.
‘is that him?’ ‘he looks rough’ ‘do you think it's true?’
the last one caught his attention, he head raises slowly to the gaggle behind him. The sight of it must've scared them because when his eyes land on the two, they lock up
“What's true?” he says in a rasp, a series of dry coughing following shortly after. All he'd been doing was crying and screaming into his pillow the past few days.
He clicks his tongue in distaste; ‘an unfortunate side effect. as long as it doesn't halter his search for you’
“eh?” The shorter girl freezes
“what’s. true” he repeats
“erm.” she looks between Zandik and her friend “y'know… Sohreh.”
Zandik pauses, nose scrunching in confusion “what are you talking about.”
“Well. She was found dead.” The friend pipes up quietly, making him freeze up “mauled by one of the wildlife…”
“Rishboland tiger.” The other points out before staring down at Zandik suspiciously “I thought you were her friend. How could you not know.”
his grip turns painful, pencil snapping at the force. His breathing quickens “No. I didn't.”
“didn’t…” she begins again “didn't you two book off of class for an expedition with the professor that day?”
he knows what she's referring to, what she's inplying.
‘Monster.’ ring into his head, the faint screech of a record tearing down the last of his precariously structured walls.
‘They're looking at you like you're the monster.’
○-○
he's tearing through his room one final time, shoving item after item into his bag before rushing out the doors, not bothering to lock it as he runs
He passes student after student. head down and eyes staring down at any teacher, every guard when they lift their hands to the terminals and whisper. his breath shuddering as he makes his way to the edge of the city with minimal issues
“Akasha check!” He stops off to the side, watching as the last guard at the gate scans through the crowd. spear clenched in his grip.
“What's the big deal!” An older man yells “we're trying to get home!”
“We're doing some routine scans is all” the guard yells back with little regard for those in front of him “we have a fugitive! A Zandik Sneznavich! wanted for the suspected murder of a student.”
he pulls up his hood and steps away, turning tail and rushing towards the last place he'd ever thought of returning to. through the crowds, he slips into the masses unnoticed.
he grits his teeth before entering the barracks, a herd of sumpter beast grazing lazily at the entrance, packed and ready to go before he finds the one he's looking for. he steps up to the beast and holds out his hand with confidence
“awh- hey!” he ignores the concerned voice. The beast lifts its head and locks eyes with him before it nudges its horn into his hand
“Now that's a surprise! little nuts’ never-” he spares the old woman a look. her eyes widened from behind her eye mask, the small slits allowing her to gaze over his features. Taken back by the identical red hue that stares emotionlessly from beneath his hood.
“Zandy” she whimpers, shoulder bunching “Zandik, is that you?”
his look hardens. "You're going to help me get out of here.”
“Zandik.” she steps closer “i havent seen you in years-”
a rushed set of footsteps run past the entrance to the barracks, yells of guards setting off the alarms. Zandik ducks into the shadows, obscuring his face when they get too close for his liking. The woman, seeing this, stares openly at him, at her son.
“you’re going to smuggle me out of the city.” he sneers “after all, a family endures- that’s what you always told me.”
her face falls at his harsh words. “it really is you.”
she lifts her head to the entrance “when i heard the name i was apprehensive- you changed your last name.”
“hardly.” he turns back to the pack mule, brushing his hand over the beasts fur again
“...You need to get rid of that thing.” she points to his akasha “it'll track you”
“It's broken.”
she looks doubtful
“they would have found me if it wasn't."
she nods after his explanation, "You're lucky we're about to head out to the oasis.”
“...” he shoulders off his bag, tossing it over into one of the large sacks for the long haul “wash day is thursday.”
he grunts as he climbs up, lifting the saddle bag and layers of blankets, gagging at the smell but deals with it regardless, crawling beneath them and hiding, he turns his head to glare down at the woman when he feels her tug at his ear, pulling free the diamond shaped earing
“a family endures.” she whispers.
he scoffs, pushing her away and curling below the blankets. He's entirely hidden. wrapping his arms around his body, he leans into the sumpter beast's warmth and closes his eyes, his fingers lifting to the broken terminal
‘Hey there, Pretty boy-’
○-○
You wake amid bursts of darkness
you come back from the vast sleep that holds you
tighter than my arms, each evening
I bare myself and abandon you
to the night’s tall grasses.
The hours that create us
separate us, and I give you up
until dawn comes to dissolve absence.
○-○
.
.
.
○-○
‘-Hey there, Pretty boy.’
click.
‘Hey there, Pretty boy.’
click.
‘Hey there, Pretty-’
“Omega!”
he pauses, finger pressed into the small indent of his defunct Akasha. a sneer forming on the uncovered corner of his marred face. crimson eyes meeting crimson.
“-You really have nothing rattling in that head of yours” the 8 year old chitters, pushing at the older segment to move over. he reluctantly shifts, letting the smaller climb up beside him to take his place at the table
“Do you know what Prime wants this time?” he asks, seeing the others absorbed in their own conversations “he and Delta seemed pretty adamant about something.”
“How should I know” he hisses, tugging at his pink bow tie to loosen it from its strangling grip “Must be something from a harbinger meeting, you know he's the one who attends them.”
the kid rolls his eyes “Yeah, but you all have the adult link still running- just connect through that”
“I don't have access” he bites out more harshly
“beacause you're dumb.”
"Why are you here, Zeta.” he pushes him away by his face “go sit by Delta and Kappa like you normally do”
he whines, pressing back “they kicked me out - said i was being too nosey”
“And now I'm kicking you out. go annoy Gamma - no, better yet, go annoy Beta, see if he attempts to erase you again.”
Before he can tease the boy anymore, the door slams open, Prime stalking in with two of his lower agents following behind.
the segments freeze, back straightening
‘He does not look to be in the best of moods’ Omega winces, grabbing Zeta by his scruff and helping him back onto the bench, he follows obediently, straightening his own tie and politely folding his hands on his lap
The agents, shaking, move around the table handing out files. a singular folder for each of them. One of the agents yelp when Nu snaps at them, the mutant fox mimic growling when they get too close
“what’s this all about” Gamma speaks up first, the 80 year old groaning as he leans forth and snatches his out of the hands of the agent when she approaches "Delta's not relayed any of the information he learnt at the administrators collective. I don't appreciate the delay. We happen to have a full schedule with operations ahead of us.”
of all of them, he is the least apprehensive about poking Prime's haughty attitude
“due to the sensitive nature of the data learned. it's pertinent to the overall mission” Prime responds, flicking his fingers at the two agents, sending them rushing out the door. With a click of his fingers, the door locks, sealing soundproof and the metallic clip on her files pinch open
Zeta has no hesitance in snatching his and tearing it open, ready to devour any new information he can get his hands on. The rest of them, however, see their neighbouring segments stare at the closed leaflets, feeling the way Prime phrases his words in a dubious light.
“Obviously not.” he picks up the files and waves them in front of his face “it just means this will become a detriment to our current projects one way or another.”
“I have to agree with Gamma for once” Omega's eyes narrow on the laxed form of Beta, reclined and looking unbothered
“While my objective of obtaining the gnosis has concluded- I am still the main Dottore in charge of the Trilunar project” he taps his fingers against each other “I vehemently object to whatever you have to present as having pertinence. has it really shown a higher importance to us than your previous obsession with project Solnari or the acquisition of the moon marrows?”
“You’re still going on about that?” Omega cringes
“I am the one who secured the Dendro Archon's ‘willing’ participation in our grand experiment, am I not?” Beta preens at the chance to boast “A willing hero and an even more willing villain, have I not secured our eventual victory?”
“Kill yourself.”
Zeta scoffs, flipping the page. "I'm not sure why you're all so up your own asses about this. It's just about one person.”
“The files are about someone?” Gamma frowns “a new outlander, perhaps? a decender, even?”
“both.” Prime confirms a sly grin forming on his face “and so much more.”
he pauses, his own eyes flickering down to the folder and finally plucking it from the table alongside the other segments
‘Hey there, Pretty boy.’
his throat closes up, there in the corner is your face. so clearly depicted that not even the paintings he'd long since painted or commissioned could even replicate.
he rips the polaroid out of the file and brings it so close to his face
“Is this someone the Traveller knows?” Zeta asks, glancing around at the various reactions from the older segments “Kappa- do you recognise them?”
the young teen shakes his head, continuing reading his files
‘It says I'm going to be reassigned.’ Kappa frowns, finger spelling with one hand as he turns the page with the other ‘I’m to be this stranger's slave?’
“Correct.” Prime nods “Reconissanse. might as well have you achieve something useful for once.”
the papers in his hands scrunch
‘Why don't you send Omega, he's a spy.’
“I could send Omega but-”
“No.”
The two boys in the room look surprised at the immediate refusal from him.
Prime grins slyly “we have his answer, satisfied?”
“Wait- there's no way!” Zeta protests loudly standing on the bench and pushing at Omega “You can't just send Kappa away! he’s- he’s Gamma and Delta's medical assistant practitioner! he's not trained for on field expeditions like Omega is!"
“So you volunteer?”
Zeta wilts, paling at the change “huh?”
“well if we shouldn't send Kappa, then you volunteer to take his position? just a reminder that you are not trained in espionage.”
“No!” he squeaks out holding up his hands, for once the child looked in genuine turmoil thinking over the options “No… I-”
“I vote in favour of sending the reject.” Beta pipes up quietly, his posture tense, his papers being screwed up and tossed into the center of the table. he stands with little decorum, folding his arms behind his back and abruptly laving the room.
“Seconded.” Gamma grunts “we have the majority.”
“but…” Zeta mutters, hurt showing on his face as he turns to Delta “You agree with me, right? we cant send-”
Silently the plague doctor knocks his fist onto the table, tossing his file into the middle and standing, taking his leave too.
“you!” Zeta gasps
Kappa tips his head ‘...when am I being reassigned?’
“You can't be serious!” Zeta screeches “We have a limited number of spare parts left, not to factor in our scrambled connectivity from Betas attempt at a mass suicide! we do not have the freedom to allow another failure”
“an outlander is an unreliable variable” he blows up at them “A descender is unpredictable, we cannot guarantee the protective custody of Kappa in this stranger's hands. Zandik is not alive and we have no way of…”
“He's the only viable option.” Omega mutters “He'll be safe. the… variable won't harm him.”
may i request a gn!reader being freaky with the older segments for fun and to just tease em while they’re working in the lab. Like leaving touches (caressing their faces, tracing a hand down on their chests, etc.) leaving em kisses on the neck, etc. Then just leaving them with blue balls
and one day reader gets cornered by all of em and spicy shit happens uhhh yeah
It started as a game.
You were bored.
They were brilliant—always busy with their experiments, immersed in data, ignoring your presence for hours on end.
So, naturally, you decided to interrupt.
You started with Gamma.
He was hunched over a microscope, muttering to himself. You leaned in and let your fingers brush down the back of his neck, tracing the veins beneath his skin. He stiffened immediately.
“You're tense,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear. “You should take a break, Gamma.”
He didn’t respond—not with words. Just a sharp inhale and a faint twitch below the belt.
You smiled.
Then Theta, you traced your fingertips over his chest as he reviewed surgical notes. “Does your heart ever race in that cold body?” you murmured, letting your tongue flick over his neck before walking away.
Omega tried to ignore the kiss you left on his jaw. He clenched the table, growled your name lowly, but didn’t move.
Delta snapped a pencil in his hand when you straddled the stool behind him and massaged his shoulders, letting your breath ghost down the back of his neck.
Then you walked out of the lab.
Like nothing happened.
Like you didn’t just awaken every feral instinct in four dangerous minds.
Hours passed. They said nothing. You began to think you got away with it.
Until the lights dimmed in your wing of the lab.
Until the door locked behind you.
Until four very pissed-off Segments cornered you in the dark.
Gamma was the first to grab you, slamming you against the wall, lips crashing into yours with fevered anger.
“You think we’re toys, firecracker?” he growled, grinding into your thigh. “You thought we wouldn’t make you pay?”
“Made us walk around thinking about you for hours,” Theta hissed, sliding behind you, pinning your arms back. “Now you get to be our lab rat.”
Omega and Delta circled in like sharks. Omega’s gloves were off. Delta’s shirt was unbuttoned.
“You’ll be sore for days,” Delta purred.
“Beg now,” Omega demanded. “Before we take it.”
You were already aching, but you smirked, defiant.
“Make me.”
They did.
———
They stripped you fast, leaving you exposed on a lab table, restraints locking your wrists over your head. Cold metal beneath your back, four mouths on you at once.
Theta left bite marks down your chest.
Gamma sucked bruises onto your thighs.
Omega slipped two slick fingers inside you, curling expertly while Delta whispered: “You're ours now.”
And then?
They denied you.
Over and over.
Teased to the edge. Again. And again.
Every time you begged, they laughed.
“Not yet.”
“You wanted this.”
“You don’t get to finish until we do.”
.
.
Finally, they gave it to you.
Delta pinned your hips, his length thick, ruthless, ramming into you deep while he growled filth into your ear. “Tight little tease, gonna break you open.”
Gamma grabbed your throat and let out a small coo at how you're taking the others well while thrusting into your mouth, using your tongue to vent his built-up frustration.
Theta held your legs open, letting everyone watch your hole stretch, your body twitching as you finally came..only to be flipped and taken again.
Omega rutted inside you. His release hot, punishing, enough to make you sob. “Now you’re marked. Claimed."
Each Segment took their turn.
And then again.
And again.
You were drooling, trembling, belly full, body twitching from overstimulation.
They didn’t unbind you right away.
They just stroked you gently, whispered in your ears, kissed your bruises.
“Next time,” Gamma purred, “we do it in the main lab.”
“Let’s see how loud you scream during dissection lectures,” Theta teased.
“You’re not walking tomorrow,” Delta smirked, kissing your temple.
Omega simply looked down at your cum-streaked, shaking form and said:
“Touch me during a test again… and we’ll breed you on the exam table.”
dottore with a child who loves him but hates the segments?
It started with a scowl.
Not an ordinary childlike pout—no, it was the kind of dark, burning glare that could rival even the Doctor’s most volatile experiments. And it was aimed squarely at them.
The segments.
“Zeta tried to touch my toy,” you said flatly, arms crossed as you stood beside your father’s desk.
Dottore didn’t even look up from his work. “He was likely analyzing its material composition.”
“He said it was ‘primitive.’ Then dropped it.”
Now, Dottore looked up. Slowly. His eyes flicked to your clenched fists and the faint wobble in your lip you were definitely trying to hide.
“And what did you do?”
“I hit him with a chair.”
There was a pause.
"...Appropriately measured," he muttered, pressing a gloved hand to his temple. “But we do not throw furniture.”
“He’s not you.”
There it was again—that ice in your voice, sharp for someone so small. It wasn’t the first time you'd said it.
You always knew your father was different. Brilliant, odd, sometimes cold—but he was yours. He built you a mechanical music box for your birthday, carried you on his shoulders through icy labs, and let you scribble drawings all over his blueprints when you couldn’t sleep.
But his segments?
They were wrong. Like shadows of him—smiling weird, talking like they thought they were better than you, always watching.
You hated them.
They’d call you “the specimen’s child” or “our future asset” and you didn’t care how much they looked like him—you wanted them gone.
“All of them try to act like they’re you,” you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze. “But they’re not. They’re creepy. And they talk like I’m a test tube.”
Dottore leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. This wasn't surprising. You had always been sharp, emotionally aware in ways his clones couldn't comprehend. To you, love wasn’t programmable. And family wasn’t replicable.
“They’re not me,” he said carefully. “They’re... extensions. Tools.”
“Then throw them away.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s not how this works.”
You turned to leave, biting your cheek. You didn’t cry, because Dottore never cried, and you were his.
But his voice stopped you.
“Y/N.”
You turned, stiff.
He stood now, walking toward you. Dottore rarely touched anyone—but with you, it was different. He knelt to your level, gloved hands cupping your cheeks.
“I chose you. Not them.”
Your eyes widened a little.
“I don’t care if you like them. You’re not required to. They are not your brothers. They are not your family.” His tone grew quieter, but colder. “But they will respect you, or they will answer to me.”
You blinked up at him, unsure.
His thumb brushed a tear from your cheek. “You are not an experiment. You are my child. The only one I trust.”
Silence stretched.
“…Even more than your work?”
That earned you a faint, rare smile. “My work doesn’t steal my chair in the morning or fall asleep in my lap while I try to write. It’s... less persuasive.”
You gave a tiny laugh, almost a hiccup. Then you buried your face into his chest.
Dottore didn’t flinch. He simply held you there, a gloved hand on your back, gaze sharp over your shoulder at the segment who had dared to approach the door again.
The clone stopped dead, expression unreadable.
“Dismissed,” Dottore said sharply, arms never leaving you. “My child comes first.”
The door closed.
And for once, the lab was quiet. Not with silence—but with peace.
----------
It started with Beta.
He approached cautiously, hands behind his back, standing stiffly like a cadet about to salute a general.
"I heard you enjoy puzzles," he said to you one morning, kneeling down. "So I constructed a Rubik's cube that self-scrambles mid-solve to build your cognitive endurance."
You stared at it.
Then at him.
You took it, slowly.
Crushed it under your boot.
"You're not my dad."
Beta blinked. "That was... advanced polymer—"
You stepped over the broken cube and marched down the hall.
Next up was Delta, who thought he could bribe you with charm.
He knelt down with a flourish, offering you a beautifully wrapped box and a crooked grin.
"Y/N, my dear child of science and starlight. I bring you this—an automated stuffed fox that tells bedtime stories and hands you sweets."
You opened the box.
The fox blinked at you, then squeaked:
“Good morning! Would you like to hear—"
You drop-kicked it down the corridor.
Delta gasped. “That was voice-encoded!”
You crossed your arms. "You're. Not. My. Dad."
“…Well, I tried.”
Sigma tried to win you over with logic.
"If your father is a superior being and we are his copies," he reasoned, sitting beside you at lunch, "then associating with us is a statistically favorable method of absorbing his traits through proximity."
You stared at him while chewing your snack. Then handed him an empty juice box.
"Hold this."
He did.
You crushed it in his hand.
“…Ow.”
"Not. My. Dad."
Even Theta tried with a hand-drawn crayon picture of the two of you holding hands under a sparkly sun.
You stared at it.
"...This is... actually kinda cute."
He perked up.
You ripped it in half.
He wilted like a sad flower.
By the time Dottore returned from a two-day mission, the hallway was filled with dejected clones, one crushed cube, a broken robotic fox, and a sobbing Theta huddled in the corner hugging a ruined crayon masterpiece.
He raised a brow.
“…What happened?”
You ran at him full speed, hugging him tightly around the waist.
“They were trying to replace you,” you growled.
Dottore looked at the segments. They all pointed at each other like guilty toddlers.
“She punted my invention,” Delta muttered.
“I was emotionally compromised,” Theta sniffled.
“She made me hold a juice box and then violated the laws of thermodynamics,” Sigma deadpanned.
Dottore sighed. Then looked down at you, arms wrapped tight around him like he might vanish if you let go.
“And how do you feel about all of this?”
You buried your face into his coat. “You’re my dad. Not them. I don’t want copies. I want you.”
His usually-stern face softened—just a little.
“Understood.”
Then he turned to his segments with the finality of a guillotine blade.
“She’s right.”
They all flinched.
“I am her father. You are not.”
“…Noted.”
“She has my approval to destroy your work if provoked.”
“…Can we have that permission?” Omega whispered to Sigma.
“No.”
Dottore crouched and picked you up, resting you on his arm like a little royalty. “I will personally handle her enrichment, bedtime stories, and emotional regulation. Anyone who interferes—” He looked at Beta, who instinctively backed away. “—will be reassigned to cell-cleaning duty.”
You smirked smugly at the clones over Dottore’s shoulder, sticking your tongue out.
Theta whimpered again.
“Come, Y/N. It’s time for father-child research bonding.”
Thank you for the quick responses from Gamma's intro Poll, I will be writing all of the options I gave in order of what was highest to lowest voted, Its still active so if you havent voted and want to vote for the next smut, you can. Ill be putting poll at the end to see which one get released next for those interested in participating [Thank you for those reblog tags too, I read them all, I'm glad ya'll like Gamma! he will return]
[PwP/Longer works get tagged]
Reader here, like in all my writings, gets the ability to switch what genitalia is there at any given time, and so can segments. Established Relationship w/ Dottore and the Segments. Jealousy [brief] and light angst, but it's set up. He gets literal maintenance done, Genshin elemental magic, mentioned self modification attempts, He gets to be called Zandik, body modifications [Omega].
Exhibition [recalling how his fellow segments keep cucking him cause he got sex banned lol.], He is putting his whole heart into getting you worked up and wet, dry humping, begging, praise, whiney whimpering stutters from Omega, First time fucking eachother but other acts have been done, Bigger than you Omega, Big dick [Omega], titty sucking, fingering, brief [v] oral, piv.
It's not hard to tell that he did not want to be present for this ‘Check up’ but he conceded that it was a necessary process to maintain his internal components. Omega never liked it when ‘Dottore’ ordered him to make his way back to Snezhnaya for the week long appointment in the past as it was always a boring ordeal,
No, he does not care that he was ‘already in town so he should stop by to get his done earlier than scheduled’ or that his internal system had been pinging with glitchy alerts the past month- He was here for you, not the plain ‘original’ him taking up your time
he lets out another loud withering sigh
The look he gives you can only be described as fervent longing, curled up and quiet on the outskirts of the room with his arms crossed just staring while you meander around, following Dottore's instructions. Glancing up every now and then to see Omega's gaze becoming increasingly more intense and unfocused as the clock drags on, soft taps from his gloved fingers echoing hollowly atop of the metallic casing
your eyes flicker back to Dottores and watch as his head lifts to meet yours in response, his mouth quirking in a displeased manner. His hand twitches when Omega lets out another, louder groan
“A break might do you good.” You tell him, placing down the tool you'd held up loosely
“I want him out as quickly as I can.” Dottore straightens “so deviations are not recommended pre-operation.”
“You look like you're going to strangle him if he makes another noise.” You shake your head “there’s still the next few days. We can push back the rest of todays-”
“No, no.” he cuts you off “Segmentation 10 and 4 are scheduled to-” he pauses when he sees your blank look “-Kappa and Delta. will be arriving soon, I do not want this to overrun. Pushing his designated allotment ahead in our program is supposed to be a boon, not a detriment”
the creak of the table where Omegas sat screeches as he shifts in place again, making you wince
“Theres a reason I keep them separated during the consecutive procedures.” He utters flatly
“It's the same process as Gammas’ right?” You ask, looking over your shoulder to the Segment “If you want, I can finish off today's reset?”
he purses his lips
“you… would do that, wouldn't you.” He says it like a statement rather than a question “...you have excelled so far with the previous procedures”
“well, Gamma was guiding me through it step by step, and Beta kept slapping my hands any time my thoughts shifted or did something wrong” you muse
he taps his fingers on his palm and stays quiet, contemplating the offer
Another shift from Omega causes the table to jostle, knocking a few of the tools onto the floor and making a large rattling echo around the room. Dottore's hand clenches when the other utters a quiet snicker, offering no apology, leaning into his seat, and not bothering to pick up the now soiled instruments
“Yes. Get him out of here. Do whatever it takes.” he growls out, turning away and hurriedly removing the fastened straps on his coats arm and peeling the glove off to slap it down on the operating table, ridding himself of the medical suit and turning to you lighter “I'll return to check over your work should you need it, but after the first two, I trust your abilities are more than enough.”
he lifts your chin and leans down, pressing the flatter part of his mask to your forehead.
“So sweet to me.” he muses, “I'll prepare a reward of sorts for you. Should you complete this task to my standards, a bath, maybe even a homemade meal?”
you both ignore the scoff that comes from the other side of the room
he leans back “we'll see how the afternoon plays out then. There's other tasks I'll see to in the meantime to make our day even shorter - and don't. let this fool distract you too much”
you nod, bidding him goodbye with a peck to the exposed part of his chin and seeing him turn to the exit, punch in the code to the panel, and leave
“‘So sweet to me’” Omega mocks the moment Dottore leaves, finally relaxing and perking up when you walk over “do you always let him be so…” he flaps his hands “eughh?”
“what? I think it's rather charming compared to the way he treats some of our peers.” You raise a brow at him, helping him shoulder off his coat, hanging it up and hopping up to sit next to him “I like that he's soft with me”
“he's doing it to get you to like him more” Omega rolls his eyes, loosening his bowtie with one hand
“Isn't that what you do too?” You laugh, taking his arm and feeling up the artificial panelling on the insides of his wrist, pressing in and feeling a quick succession of clicks before his fingers twitch, and the prosthetic comes undone
“Yeah, but the difference is that I genuinely like you!” he huffs, squinting down at the familiar sight of constantly moving mechanics
“‘like’ me.” You snort “I don't know. He's at least told me he loves me a few times”
“no he hasn't" he hisses defiantly when you carefully pull at a few of his ‘veins’, the process is painless unlike Primes attempts over the decades though he guesses he can put it down as purposeful
“mn,” you pause momentarily, blunt nails digging into a bundle of sensitive white vines where a black band sits innocently around it, they thrum with energy not far off from how the elements felt when Dottore willingly allowed the substance within his lab for you to mess around with “not verbally, sure. But I understand your quirks, Omega, you don't have to tell me these things for me to just know sometimes, none of you do things half-assed if you're interested in the topic.”
A Dottore was methodical. A Dottore was precise in its choices.
and utterly cryptic when he wanted to be. He loved differently to how many expected from him - A look into the game told you as much. how lowly he held the opinions of disputants to his rhetoric
His own opinions, views, and words of genuine fascination with the world once they cracked the code and despite how objective he may be; rejected by. you still found your way to him
a lost twinkle from afar, so alone in this desolate world, fallen straight into his cold, frigid lap like a pet otter from the Fontainian shallows you oh so adore but woe to him, he had to share.
Omega has had to watch you be paraded around by Prime [Never does he use Dottore, not unless he has to.] in the early days of your stay here, seeing how you fell into the snare that is his care
Dancing beneath the full moon with Beta on the warmer nights. the traitor laying on thick his showy nature, twirling and dipping you before taking advantage of your swooning to hike your underwear down to take you into his mouth
well, he's no better, but that's besides the point, the difference here was the fact he'd been put on a sex ban after Prime had noticed the absurd modifications done to his cock just as he was about to sink between your pillowy folds
‘Omega' he remembers with an annoying clarity ‘Our dear hasn't been worked up to that size yet’
‘Huh?-’ he'd panted, run ragged in his eagerness to rut in ‘w-what does that mean? I can eat them out again?’
he'd yelped when Prime reached and pried him away by his hair, your whine of disappointment echoing in his memory as he's told to go fetch one of the others to replace him for the night and being told he'd been prohibited until further notice
‘a sex ban!’ he'd cried out in anger, ranting to Delta after begrudgingly fetching Gamma to satiate your poor needy cunt for Primes experiment. ‘You wouldn't betray me, right?’
only to watch with a burning envy as Delta takes you brazenly on his lap in their shared dorm, not long after his rant was his breaking point.
The silent segment fucking up into that sweet [‘theres that word again’ he thinks, clucking his tongue displeased earning a distracted hum from you while you work on his system] cunt of yours, the memory of your tiny - because compared to the artifical beings they are, you were tiny- body bouncing in rapid succession, moved by the gravity of that lucky shits hold on you
He lets out a grunt, body spasming when you press at a thin thread.
Oh, and then there was Gamma. Honestly, Omega loathed him the most. The old, wrinkly ball sack version of him got more action than the rest of them. The one time he'd walked in on the two of you had himself wet in seconds, knees weak as he backed away from the doorframe and hid just out of sight to listen to the frankly pornographic noises you were pulling from Gamma. drool pooling from the corners of his mouth as he imagined himself there instead with you draining his balls empty, your dick pressing at his prostate
he quickly dashed away when he'd cum, letting out a pathetic whine too loud and alerting Gamma, frazzled as he was when his head snapped to the door to see his retreat
but the extent of how far he personally would go for you in particular was never in question. you who'd been so taken with all of them enough to let them appreciate you, love on you. jerk off and smear their cum over your skin like lotion-
he hates the fact some of your ‘characters’ could hear your words float around their head - just what did they hear when you were none the wiser, what debouched thoughts did you have when you thought no one was watching, was it him, was he a part of your fantasies?
he surges forth suddenly, catching you off guard and capturing your attention. Seizing your free hand to press against his lips, his sharp teeth grazing the calloused tips of your fingers
“I can do so much more than them, you know” he whispers out of nowhere as you pull at his grip, working around his onset of possessive actions with familiarity
“you certainly worked yourself up to something ridiculous” you mutter none the wiser to his thoughtful derailment
he grumbles quietly. "What do they have that i dont?”
“Excuse me?” You stop what you’re doing, confused
“we look the same” he starts “similar enough we can replicate each other's personality and masquerade as another and have everyone convinced we're Prime. Sure, we act differently here- but we all are fundamentally the same.”
“Omega...”
his grip tightens, unhooking his mask from his face “so why is it I'm always the one being left behind?”
“Dottore.” you grunt out, brows pinching
“heh… heho ho- you're- you're not going to abandon me too, are you?” he says deliriously
“you- you wouldn't do that." he hisses out sadly. "You wouldn't!"
“Zandik!” You bark tugging him down by his neck
he lets out a low whine, shoulders shuddering as he turns he piercing look your way, he hugs you close, shoving his nose into the crook of your neck, trailing his fingers up and down the expanse of your body, lifting you up in his arms and squeezing you tightly
you drag his arm that he had twisted around and fiddle with the panel once more, finishing your altering of the wiry components earning another jerk, then groan from the man
“your core is damaged.” he tenses when you mention it, his eyes shifting away
“...and you knew that, didn't you?”
he bows his head further, hiding the sheepish look. you undo that black band you noticed from earlier, and feel him gulp and tremor as it's peeled back.
“you really thought taping the leyline branches with thermal tape was going to fix this” you manage to wriggle out of his clutch to twist in his hold, sighing when he only calms down enough when you sit on his lap
you're both quiet, a fact you're thankful for as you bring his arm closer to your face to work on, his boney chin digging into your shoulder and watching the meticulous adjustments you make, resisting the urge to act like the masked fool he makes himself out to be in public
“you've also been making your own modifications” you notice, the wires had been snipped and twisted not unlike what you've seen in Gamma and Beta, but the position where they ended up is too cramped, folding in on each other from the angle he would have had to do it with one hand
he shrinks more at the [true] accusation
“...does this have something to do with what you said?”
“I have no idea what you mean, my darling dear- my baby doll- my-” his voice trails off sharply, a pitched gasp escaping his throat when you tug at his heart strings
“Nnn-” he gulps “Okay, okay. yes. yes, it is”
Omega couldn't deny it when you were this close to him, not when he had such easy access to what he's been yearning for the past. How many months of torture? he'd lost track.
he clues back in when he feels to kiss his nose, patting his cheek to gain his attention.
“I wanted to make a few adjustments” he admits
“Last time we couldn't go further because of-” he shivers , stuttering when you grind down on his thigh, “look, you've already told me i'm too big”
“I've said no such thing.” You murmur, chuckling at the kicked puppy look he has “you sure you're not remembering wrong?”
he clicks his tongue “Prime… said, I couldn't fuck you.”
“mmnhm.” You nod “and what'd he say before he left?”
he groans, eyes fluttering closed, cock twitching in his pants
“something... sweet?” he says, distracted as you slide yourself over top of him
“‘Do whatever it takes’” he freezes as you finish those words “now, it seems your issues can be solved in a few ways. Would you like to hear my solution?”
his eyes gain a shimmer, breath hitching in growing excitement
“you-” you coo quietly to him, sealing the panel and releasing his arm “went through all that trouble, messed with your core all because you wanted to fuck me properly, huh”
“I think the answers’ simple.” You brace yourself, hands landing on his knees as he shrinks under your smouldering gaze. You cast him from over your shoulder “Does this feel good, Zandik?”
he whimpers when you say his name, head hazy to your words feeling your pussy drool through the thin material
“If you hesitate, I stop.” he shakes his head and goes to sit up properly to grab your hips to encourage you to grind further, to show he's paying attention and eager for more of what you're willing to give
“dont you dare tease me like this” Omega licks his chapped lips “i have wanted this for so long”
“me too” you moan, twisting to capture his lips and lick your tongue into his open mouth "be nice, Zandik."
he nods, eyes narrowed and soft as he gazes up at you with want
you cuddle up to him, lifting briefly to change your position to face him, arms bracketing his shoulders and grinding down on his stiffened dick that weeps more of your attention, your shirt picked at and tossed away, pants shimmied off the both of you
Zandik breaks away, a line of spit stringing between your lips and smearing across your cheek grossly as he lathers pecks in a downward trajectory, nipping with his teeth softly in comparison to the harsh sucks at your pulse and wandering fingers seeking the sloppy mess of your underwear, tugging incessantly at the gusset and groaning when he hears a squelch from the sticky residue you're leaking from his needy touches
he pushes you back, leading you downward onto the metal slab and groping the fat on your chest.
his hot kisses leading him straight to your nipples, sucking the rigid flesh and hollowing his cheeks around it, earning your grip in his hair and tugging at the coarse strand making his eyes roll back ipat the pleasureable pinch of pain mixing in his enjoyment
spreading your legs wider in anticipation for his touch, Zandik trails his rough palm over your mound and circle his heel over your clit
the tantalising sounds ring blissfully throughout the steamy room and whining when you wriggle your hips when he slips the fabric to the side and dips his fingers in to feel the velvety folds
“Baby, hold still.” Slick coats his digits, one easily pumping into you without resistance while he slobbers needily over your tits, suckling and making them shine with his spit, painting them with a lewd shine
“I gotta-” he gulps “i gotta work you open first, or else it's gonna hurt”
you shake your head “no, i can take it”
“mmnnhn-” he whimpers at the thought of just going straight for it “nonono- i can't. I really can't! don't rush me-"
he protests, holding himself back and kneeling down to tongue your entrance to distract himself, sinking the one deep and grinding the heel of his palm in tune to your insistent rocking
"be nice" you remind him
"I am nice." he spits out in a rush, "this is me being nice!"
you pull his head back down to your chest and purr when he goes straight back, do it, thumb digging into your ribs and groping you, obsessed with the fat squished between the seems of his grip
“Mnph- y-you really think you're the only one wanting this?”
he chokes at your words, eyes crossing and lips pursed against your pussy lips, suckling feverishly “you- ahn, right there, Zandik- auuug,”
he prods in another finger and moans when that also sinks in without effort before tempting fate and working in a third to hear you groan
“fuck” he squeaks, fumbling with his undershorts to rid himself of that last layer
“guh- fuuuuhk! have you been stretching yourself for me?”
you nod, hooking your own hand beneath your knee to spread yourself wider so he can see himself fuck you with his fingers more clearly
the frothy liquid pooling onto the dip on the surface below as it trickles off his coiled palm and wrist
“You're soaking just from this.” he bites his lip, drawing prickles of blood to sprout from the pressure, hand slowing to go deeper and see the gush of come as he scissors his fingers experimentally
“I…” he waivers, mouth going dry seeing the eager grinding circles you make to pleasure yourself
“Zandik.” You coo out, grabbing one of his hands and intertwining them with a sultry look
the blue haired man trembles, lapping at the ambrosia and staining his face.
“auuuh-” your shoulders bunch leg kicking, cunt clamping down on his tongue as he devours you, that warmth turning in your core and building when you cave and looking like a dreamy thick cream coating him “Zan- dik!”
his eyes cross in bliss, digging his nose in further and lifting your hips up and nuzzling hopelessly in to work you through your orgasm
he smacks his lips when he finally pulls away with sweat coating his skin, cock hanging hard between his thighs while he crawls up your body, nipping and leaving marks
rubbing himself all over you, and sliding his oozing cockhead
“I've wanted you badly for so long, baby-” he keens, sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth, thumb pressing your clit as his hips stutter as he sinks his engorged weepy tip past, kissing your entrance “ahn, feel that? it's all for you - made it for you too, you want it?”
“yeah” You mewl, needily rocking against him, wrapping your legs around his waist to try to get him to hurry up
“Finally” he cries out pathetically, a breathy crackle of a laugh teetering out as his other hand digs into your hip, and his chest presses hard into yours “Mn- finally you're all mine”
he ruts his own hips, thighs burning, savouring the velvety feel of nudging his dick and have your pussy lick and slobbering needily to suck him in
“You needed me too, right?” he asks into your ear, cheek squished against yours “to fuck you so good you won't need any of the others, ugh, you're too much-”
your wiry lover smothers you, Zandik's voice turning haughty at the switch in demeanour coming from you.
"I thought you said you could handle it?” he purrs, caging you in “I'm not stopping, mnm- not when you sound so so pretty for me, cry f'me, mn mn. c'mon, cry louder ”
his following tut of ‘huh, huh?’ prompting you to nod dumbly in response and open your mouth, tongue lolling to let him hear the debauched panting, fingers tangling into the short tufts of powdery hair and lean into his touch
“That's -Hnghh- That's it, baby.” slowly, he presses his hips forwards, eyes darting down to watch with intensity as he wedges the head between your folds, breath punched out in a low whine “juuuuust like that. you're so tight f'me baby”
he glances up to see you're also watching him enter you, prickles of tears glittering your lashline but your face is twisted into one of pleasure “you’re so fucking attractive too, baby- do you even need me to tell you that?”
he fucks up into you and sinks in fully in one swift motion absolutely destroying his composure. coming hard and stuffing you full.
His thighs tremble as he clutches you to his chest and falters. face heating up even worse than it was
“i-” he stutters “fuh- fuck” he whimpers pathetically at the white out “fuhk- mn sorry I couldnt- you felt so good.”
he keeps himself stuffed in your warmth, the grip so intoxicating and addictive.
You cup his cheeks and bring his face up to smash your lips to his and take advantage of his laxed state to drag your hands down to his hips to move his hips for him,
he cries are muffled, hiccuping from the overstimulation and fumbles for a minute before shakily moving again
your head tips back, Zandik licking down your neck to mouth at your breasts again, suckling the fat, his jerky thrusts delving into shallow pumping
“haaah hck- listen to you, so fucked dumb f'me” he giggles deliriously into your chest, bodies arching into eachother
“Nn- mn not stopping, we still have so much to catch up on.”
Requests are open if you wanna - "Who and what do you write for?" And to the Readers who lurk but dont mind anonymously assisting;
Dottore Gamma Segment NSFW - Love an old man Dottore segment [1k short]
Enjoy Gammas' [The name used here for an Older Dottore] NSFW intro drabble and beginning headcanon. Also, Reader here, like in all my writings, gets the ability to switch what genitalia is there at any given time, and so can segments unless requested for.
“Now- theres no need to be so specific” Gamma grunts out, hand twisting incessantly into the sheets, his lashes screwed tightly together “He’s not here, so say it.”
“Mn-” you gasp out, teeth clenching when he backs up, the ball of his foot hooking around your thighs to bring you flush against his ass making him crone in bliss
“say it” he pants roughly
“Zandik.” You mutter loudly to his delight, his crimson eyes peeking back and spine arcing “Zandik you feel so good.”
“y-yeah?” he says rather muted now as he focuses on you slowly returning pace, content with pressing his face into the pillowy sheet and blankets bundled for his comfort
your hands fall back down to his hips and massage the worn down skin and tracing the blemishes and marks that mar it, then shift a touch lower to spread his ass cheeks to watch yourself sink in then out, dragging out a frothy ring of spit and cum
he's on his knees this time for you, perched atop of his unused bed for the first time in a while, knees aching and chest elevated by hugging the fabrics close- really hed done that so he can fuck his sensitive cock against the mound
“Shit- s'feels so good.” he shoves his face back down, shivering as the liquid overflows and drips down his balls and onto the surface. Reaching back, he grasps onto his your hand and tugs it to his mouth
you lean down to help him with his goal, a slow grind that nudges against his prostate so nicely. brushing the short curls from his shoulder and placing a wet collage of kisses as he shoves your digits into his mouth, lathering them with slick spit before finally dragging them to wrap round his dick and squeezing tightly around the chubby leaking head
“c'mon..” you glance up to meet his intense gaze “-fuck me like i'm young again.”
He does not recognise the age gap kink he unconsciously develops with you
[None of the segments do] but for him it's a more physical thing- His body is modified to reflect the physically older aspects of human life even if all it does is annoy him; aching bones, wobbly knees, saggy balls, lower Stamina, being more prone to drool over himself and you after getting lost in the sensations
then comes you, so much fitter than he is, spry and much more capable of manhandling him than he'd admit
It doesn't matter what you look like. He just knows it's better than his sorry withered state
he praises you for it still
“My beautiful lover, look at you, wanting to suck an
older mans’ dick” he grips the top of your head shakily to pop you off the weeping slit
“How disgusting that I want you stuffed.” he huffs, swiping the dribble from your bottom lip “would you like that? for me to give it to you?”
he's still not giving up his control over the situation to let you take over. No, for him, he has a focus on soft Dom-ing from the bottom
Fuck him good and he'll let you go until you tire of riding him, fingering him or sitting on his face
Fuck him mediocrely and he'll grumble, turn onto his side and grip you by the scruff of your neck until you do it better
“Keep going.” He growled out, teeth pierced intonhis lip as his finger tapped out a pattern for you to follow, leg arched only a touch higher on your hip “That's it, match it- you can do that much can’t you, sweet thing?”
Fuck him bad? well he hopes you're not that incompetent after all this time [and he hates weaponised incompetence so you better not be acting up.]
He'll take over, and he's heavy, so he has you pinned down breathless as the old machinery in his body clicks into place at the odd angle
he's also a lot less forgiving here so try your best to cum because once he's satisfied he's leaving you to deal with yourself if you don't
If you bring up his age kink he'll get somewhat flustered
“Right.” He breathes out almost dazed by your confession, his hand coming up to cover the bottom half of his face as he feels it warm “r-right…”
and begin overthinking it. To him, he thought it was just spur of the moment dirty talk that leaked into his speech
until he realises he's also getting increasingly aroused by the thought of you being into a half-dead dirty fuck like him
that he delves into taunting you about it in return for the wake up call
never call him fair when it comes to his petty nature showing its head
“You really had to go ahead and say that out loud” Gamma- no, Zandik growls out, hand on the small of your back as he ruts his cock deeper
“me? you're just as guilty of the thought” he pants "what is it about me that you find so attractive- hmn? you have all the others to pick and choose from, and you come to me.”
He says it so confidently because it's true. here you are pawing at the cushion of his favourite recliner, his cock pecking the insides of you with a fever uniquely his own
“Please-” you cry out weakly into your arm
“No.” he jerks his hip forwards, knocking your breath from your throat “speak up now, I have a much lower threshold for bullshitting.”
Which segment is next?
More Omega [Webttore] The Desperate finally gets to fuck you for the first time
More Gamma [Old man Dottore] More headcanons
More Mu [Monster Vessel Dottore] Soft Monsterfucker part 2
Delta [Caretaker Dottore] Drabble and Headcanon intro
Beta [The one in game] Drabble and Headcanon intro
Multiple segments [Based on Results] Drabble and Headcanons
Not a segment [Prime Dottore] Drabble and Headcanon intro
Voting ended onMay 12
10/5 Omega has won the poll by a landslide! [Here for Returnees]
12/5 Second place winner; Dottore [Here for Returnees]
The rest to come - Thank you for the feedback!
As Normal SFW and NSFW Requests are open! or even if you'd like to share [Heres a list of who I write for] and [Dottore masterlist]
