you've been invited to the harbingers'... tea party?! perhaps they grew bored of the feasts. won't you join them, dear? they've been waiting quite a while for you...
welcome to my blog! ♡
this genshin impact writing blog is specifically made for the 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬. please check out my rules for further information and my masterlist for everything i've written so far. i hope you enjoy them, because who doesn't love fluffy villains?!
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Heyy! I've been reading your fics for a long time and I gotta say they are so amazing and immersive. But I had a question in mind that I wanted to ask.
Since Zandik joined the fatui and created his segments before reader woke up from their coma, did he ever consider, during that time of waiting, of creating segments of reader?
Segments from the time before they fell ill? And since segments don't age or change, these segments of reader would forever be stuck in a healthy state. Like their days together in the academia.
Did he ever think about it? Did he ever try to? Why didn't he follow through with it? Did he hesitate? Was he scared? Afraid that things would go wrong? Were there technical difficulties he couldn't bypass? Was he ashamed and angry with himself for wanting to resort to this method? Or for thinking of this method?
Instead of staying loyal to the original reader who lays unresponsive in their bed?
Or would he not consider doing this as a betrayal towards the original reader at all?
(idk if you already have spoken on this. So I'm sorry for this ask if you did. Please 🥺 put in the link of that post.)
-𓆉anon
I don't think Dottore would make segments of reader, because he would eventually understand it is cruel. He might have had a fleeting thought about it, because naturally as a scientist he frequently thinks of many possibilities and such, but it would go as quickly as it came. Even if you did ask about it, he would shut it down because he loves you and won't let you torture yourself.
He has witnessed the turmoil of his own segments, how they bicker and such, and although you would probably be less prone to fighting amongst yourselves, making segments of you would still have problems. His own segments are very conscious of their inability to change, some even hate it. Condemning any version of you to be unable to change is heartless, even for him. And then there's the whole loss of identity aspect... would you feel start to feel conflicted about who you are? Would you eventually feel inferior to your younger self? Regardless of his intentions, you would probably feel a bit insecure if he fawned over the you that was strong, able to help, etc over the current you. And that is the last thing he'd want to do. Ultimately, the person he loves is you, not just a slice of you, the entirety of you. It's the same logic as why he also has no desire to do it anyway, because what he longs for is not a version of you he crafted, but you yourself. Rather than spending time on the past, he focuses on the current you, the one he wants to make happy and cure.
Reader working with 45 to snitch on 18 throwing for out 8's notebook to Pantalone, because in another excerpt (I think it was when 35 (Omega) got back from a party??? They were talking about a new colleague and how 18 wants them in finance because Pantalone rejected his proposal) it implies that 45 year old pulled some shit to get 18's proposal rejected: "Must have been an administrative issue." - 45
STOPPP THATS SO CUTE 🥺😭😭 I LOVE 45 AND 8 TOGETHER AHHHHHHEBEHUER... I've seen a few fanart of 45 being soft/kinda fatherly to 8 AND OH MY DOTTORE... I LOVE THEM SM... 8's little hehe and 45's AHAHAHAHA was so adorable, I KNOW THEY BOND, I JUST KNOW IT. I like the idea of Dottore being kinder to his child self as he gets older... <3
I just need to figure out how exactly they would snitch on 18... oh my pookies. brb adopting 8 with 45, and then he gets the family he never had-
omg I just read ur fic it's soo good, I love the interactions between 8 and reader, it really does heal the soul :)
But is Zandik's 8 year old segment going to replace Zandy in ur timeline, or are they both coexisting at the same time??????
Bc I'd really miss Zandy if 8 is going to replace him, but I understand if it's going to make the story between fragile reader/reader and Dottore more canon to Genshin's cursed canon.
THANK U DEAR ANON!! 8 NEED SOME HUGGING AND LOVING!! HE'S JUST TWO SAUCES TALL!!
But no, he's not replacing dear Zandy, I'm keeping my stuff and canon separate for the most part (mostly in the case of Dottore, I'll push in canon bits where I can). 🙂↕️ Because Zandy is too precious and I love the idea of a happy child segment. I will always write for the baby 🥺 I just wanted to dedicate some effort to the canon, despite me being sad!
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i can’t for the life of me find that little drabble you wrote about fragile reader waking up and the segments being there… if you see this ask, please may you link it? thank you very much 💚
It's not a little drabble but the first thing that came to mind is this fic? 🤔 There was also this but i think you mean from the coma instead of regular sleeping... if not just lmk and i will try my best to find it 💕💕💕
question about your url. Is it Fatuis mooches or Fatui Smooches ? I cannot figure out which way to read it and would like clarification pretty please
ITS FATUI SMOOCHES!! The original intent behind it was that we would be giving Smooches to the Fatui and boom. Combine them and you get fatuismooches. Also why people call me 'smooches' 💕
The eighteen-year-old Segment was a familiar experience.
He was made after the image of the first Zandik you had ever met. The you that was just a scholar studying in the Akademiya and the Zandik that was scorned by all those around him. Despite those times being from so long ago, the memories still remained vivid and close to your heart. That was the Zandik you had first fallen in love with, the one who narrowed his eyes with distrust and spat harsh words in the beginning from being ostracized, but slowly managed to let down all of his walls that revealed a vulnerable and hurt man. So, it was only natural that your heart skipped every so often around Eighteen.
It also didn’t help when he seemed to yearn for your attention and yet try to push you away at the same time. Sometimes Eighteen would appear from behind, with a snide comment directed to whatever other Segment was currently occupying your time. Sometimes he would appear from your side and remark that you could be doing more with him rather than wander around. And sometimes he would be right in front of you when you’d turn the corner and bump into him, telling you to watch where you’re going as he nervously flexed his fingers.
“You seem to pop up wherever I go,” you said one day when you visited his lab. It wasn’t an accusation, more like an amusing observation, but Eighteen seemed to think you were implying something with the way his shoulders raised defensively.
“It’s more like you appear wherever I’m going. Perhaps you’ve been following me around, just like you did this time.” He fumbled with papers as he shot back, although it was obvious he wasn’t paying attention to them, or more like he couldn’t.
“Hmm, you’re not entirely wrong. I came to you because I missed your company.” While his tone might rile someone else up or cause some sort of negative reaction, you remained as calm and collected as you usually did. He faltered momentarily in the face of your honesty.
“Well,” he sniffed, trying to brush you off, “I am going to be quite busy here, so I won’t be able to entertain you.” A few moments of silence passed.
“Alright, if you want me to go, then I will. I won’t distract you.” You conceded and began to make your way out of the room.
“Wait.” The Segment had put down everything he was tinkering with and stared at you, mouth slightly agape, as if he wasn’t expecting you to listen to him. Eighteen glanced around the area for something to stall you with, to delay your departure. Ah, some documents that needed to be delivered to another Segment. He could just ask you to pass them on and then manage to strike up something research-related, and then you could linger-
But that is when he remembered that you wouldn’t come back anyway, and what’s more, your time for the rest of the day would probably be consumed by that other version of him. He wasn’t very fond of you leaving him to go to someone else.
“Yes?” You cocked your head to the side, awaiting his response. He felt heat crawl up his neck.
“Nothing,” he said dumbly. You let out a hum in response and turned around again, slowly strolling toward the exit, taking the time to look at the ceiling and examine the bits of machinery and reports here and there. It was almost like you were doing this on purpose.
“If there’s nothing else, then I’ll see you-” You were nearly at the door before something collided into you from behind, knocking the words out of your mouth. It only took a few seconds to notice that Eighteen had latched himself onto your back, arms wrapped around your sides.
“H-Hey?” At most, you were expecting the Segment to create an excuse to get you to stay, not tackle you from behind, but you weren’t complaining. “Eighteen?” The call of his name made his breath hitch as he loosened his grip on you a bit.
“I…” The words got stuck in his throat, the short curls of his blue hair tickling your cheek. There wasn’t really a convincing way to bluff his way out of this when he’d practically thrown himself onto you. “I was going to ask you to…” Just being around you was making him lightheaded.
It was then that you wiggled out of his grip to turn around, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking at him with the kindest gaze anyone had ever given him.
“I’ll stay,” you said simply, before sauntering back to your place again at the top of his desk, patting your thigh like it was a motion for him to come closer. Of course, he had his ways, but he was more obedient to you than he’d ever admit.
Eighteen hovered in front of you, arms hanging lanky by his side as if he had forgotten how to use them after embracing you, before you grabbed his hands and placed them on your waist. He swallowed, acting as if the heat that was burning him up was nothing. Your thumb rubbed circles along his jaw before cupping his chin and pulling him in.
The Segment whimpered as your lips connected, and one hand moved to grip the back of your shirt while the other fiercely sank into your softness. Your hand reached to caress his cheek, and the other massaged his scalp, and his knees almost gave out at the sensation.
There are very few things in this world that Eighteen would describe as lovely, if any, but you unquestionably were. And he would probably be indulging in your loveliness until he was out of breath… which would probably be soon, but you’re good at telling him to take breaks, right?
—
Although all of the Segments had their own disputes and feelings about each other, it had become obvious that Eighteen was a bit more… vocal about his displeasure. Perhaps it stemmed from being one of the youngest of the Segments, maybe from the frequent and ever-present feeling of being overlooked and rejected, or maybe something else. And every so often, you had to witness such situations.
In this case, while the thirty-five-year-old Segment found it interesting to read through the Akademiya’s editorials and other publications from time to time, the eighteen-year-old would scoff and roll his eyes whenever the topic was brought up. It wasn’t hard to understand why. The young Segment was stuck reliving the pain of attending and being excluded for his ideas, the trauma of being blamed for the death of someone he didn’t cause. It was no wonder he had stronger feelings about the school while the older ones had mellowed out.
“Do you really need to spend so much time reading those things? Surely it can’t be that interesting. Nothing from people who allow themselves to be chained to the rules can,” Eighteen huffed as he eyed the paper the older Segment was reading. Thirty-Five seemed unbothered.
“I won’t deny that. However, generalizing would be a mistake. There are a few pieces that manage to hold some substance, although they are exceedingly rare.” The Segment agreed, and yet somewhat did not at the same time. Eighteen clicked his tongue, and that was when he turned to you for support.
“[Name], don’t you agree? You’ve experienced the hypocrisy of the Akademiya firsthand, have you not?” There was something in the younger Segment’s eyes that seemed like he was searching for your approval.
“Me? Well, I-” It was then that you paused, and something quite sad dawned on you. You had been able to change, but he could not. Thirty-Five then glanced at your downcast expression.
“Eighteen, do refrain from asking them intrusive questions.” The older Segment let out a sigh.
“Can’t I be curious about their opinion?” Because you were the only person who would take him seriously and answer him with something thoughtful.
“Not at their expense.” Eighteen chewed his lip at the older Segment’s words before taking a glimpse at your face and seeing your glumness. His mouth opened - to say what, he didn’t even know - before closing it. An awkward silence fell, and he quietly left.
You soon found where he had run off to soon after, and he looked like he was expecting you.
“Did I offend you?” He couldn’t help being blunt. It was just in his nature to ask difficult questions and seek difficult answers. You let out a small laugh. Before, he didn’t seem to care in the moment, but it seemed that, after some reflection, he truly did care about your feelings.
“No… No, you didn’t. I know you just wanted a direct answer from a direct question. I just needed some time to think about it.” Eighteen’s stiff posture relaxed a bit after receiving your reassurance.
“But anyway… Eighteen, I’ve… moved on from those times. From what they did to me at least. It still upsets me, but it was so long ago. I don’t want to waste my energy on it.” You remember all the stares and chatter that popped up when you decided to stay with The Outcast, from your peers and professors and the Sages, effectively making the others push you away. But it wasn’t something you would ever regret. You would choose Zandik again and again, no matter what others told you. However, the Segment didn’t look satisfied with that answer.
“They threw you out of the Akademiya without any attempts at accommodations. They would hardly spare you a glance or listen to when you asked for extensions or tried to explain your condition.” He progressively raised his voice as he recounted your struggles. “And those people, they looked at you like-” He bit his tongue as if uttering it would send him into a deeper fury. “Those doctors too, they just brushed you aside and-”
It was then you truly realized that Eighteen wasn’t just scarred from his own rejection. At how cruelly he was received by everyone around him. He was upset about how they treated you too. At how his only beloved had to suffer so terribly.
You grabbed Eighteen’s hand, and that seemed to bring him back to you. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure how you could go about this. You could teach him how to love, but it was a different story helping him to shed such deep-seated insecurity and nonacceptance.
“I know. I remember all of that, and I don’t like it either, just as I hate what both of us had to go through.” One of your hands brushed his palm, while the other stroked the top. “But… the Akademiya can’t hurt me again. And… they can’t hurt you. We aren’t there anymore. I know I can’t change your mind, but… we’re here now. Things are different, and I have you with me. And I’m very happy with you right now, in this moment. At the very least, know that.”
You felt as if that was a flimsy answer, but you didn’t know what else to say. Because in truth, it was only natural he could never forget those experiences, especially at such a tender age.
“… I guess if that’s really what you think, then I’m inclined to take your opinion into consideration.” There were a few beats of silence before Eighteen quietly replied. You could only wrap your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He slowly reciprocated and held you, and he felt something flutter in his chest when you pressed a small kiss to his skin.
You were so warm. He would not compare it to an all-consuming fire that chased things away from it and made hearts race in fear. You were just… warm.
But you knew that although you said all of that, your poor boy could never move on from the pain of rejection embedded into his very core.
—
There was a quiet corner of the lab that Eight seemed to like to hang around in besides being in his room, and he soon introduced you to it. The attachment was beginning to grow deep, as he began to show you more of his notebooks and various texts the others had given him - mainly from Forty-Five and the original Zandik.
“So, this is where you’ve been.” A voice suddenly echoed nearby, the click of Eighteen’s boots sounding as well. The older Segment appeared in front of you, and when he noticed the young boy on your lap, his expression changed.
“Hi, Eighteen. I’m surprised you’ve found us all the way out here. Did you need something?” Eight glanced at him but kept his head down in his books.
“I..” His usual brashness seemed to temporarily dissipate at the sight. The child sat in your lap, with one hand keeping him securely positioned and the other playing with his soft hair, adorning him with soft kisses on his cheek from time to time as he pointed to things and explained them. But after a few moments, his attitude came back.
“I came for you. Because we have things to do.” You raised your eyebrows, still keeping your gentle smile on your face.
“Like…?” The Segment floundered for an answer.
“Reports. Research. I need your opinion.” He crossed his arms as if you should have already known.
“I’m happy to help you with all of that. But right now, I’m with Eight.” You patted the child’s head to emphasize. “I’m sure I could come visit you when we’re done, though.” He didn’t move from that spot as you turned your attention back to the kid. You praised his younger self and nodded along with his ideas, and Eighteen gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand to watch something so childish and nonsensical.
“And Forty-Five is calling for you, Eight.” Eighteen suddenly interrupted once more, drawing your attention to him once again.
“I didn’t hear anything in the hive-mind.” Eight put his book down and quietly replied.
“Well, maybe you weren’t paying attention.” His response was immediate and scowling. You frowned and shot the older Segment a look, but he ignored your gaze. A few seconds later, the child grabbed his notebooks and was heading off.
“Bye, [Name].” Eight lingered near you as you smoothed down his hair from all the ruffling you did before departing.
“Bye-bye, my dear.” You waved him goodbye, and now only you and Eighteen were left in the room. “Alright then, I guess we should-”
“Why do you tolerate him?!” The force of his words had you taken aback, but you had a feeling where this was going.
“Why… Why would I not-”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, or what he’s doing. He shouldn’t speak about it as if he-”
“Eight has some good ideas-”
“Those are naive fantasies from someone who doesn’t understand how the world works. They are implausible. We have actual work to do, and we shouldn’t be wasting time listening to him. Not me, not you.” He had balled his fists up so tightly, you were sure it was painful.
People may not have wanted to listen to his ideas as a kid, but that little boy still had the ability to dream all the childish ideas he wanted. But for Eighteen, people still did not want to listen to his ideas, and he had gradually lost that ability to think freely as a child would. That was why he could not stand to be around Eight, who was the beginning of the ideas that others scorned him for, but still persisted to dream about them anyway.
“… But even if they are just childish fantasies, don’t they deserve to be appreciated and nurtured anyway? Perhaps so they could even grow into something more?” You took small steps toward him, his back turned to you as he shook. “And there were so many things that others said couldn’t be done, but you accomplished them anyway, didn’t you?” You placed your hand on his back, and the shaking stopped momentarily as you pressed your face against him.
“I love every part of you. The parts of you that make me smile and laugh. And the parts that others may have hated or feared about you… I love those just as much, and they deserve to be loved and seen.” Your arms reached to snake around Eighteen’s sides as he seemed to calm down, or at least stop shaking. “You don’t need to hide away those parts of yourself, because I want to learn about them all the same. So please don’t say that.”
You could see that he wasn’t going to respond to you. So instead, you continued to hold Eighteen from behind as he blinked back tears and reached to place his hand over yours.
"You know, I like to think that I know you better than anyone. And I think that you know me better than anyone else, too. I really thought that way when we were younger, even though we were students who'd known each other for just a few years," your eyes were half-lidded, staring off into the distance as if recalling fond memories, before somewhat hardening. "But now, I don't know if I feel the same way." Dottore tried to ignore the uneasiness your words brought.
"I don't think I ask for a lot, Zandik. I don't ask for anything expensive or hard to get. I might ask for a pile of books to occupy myself with, some supplies for something I want to do, or some music from other nations to listen to, all petty things for someone of your standing to acquire." It was here that the scholar could see how sunken your eyes looked.
"But maybe I should have guessed that asking for even an ounce of your attention would be harder to get than anything else... Why, Zandik?" It was now that you looked at him with eyes nearly on the verge of tears, but too tired to let them fall. Dottore tried to produce a reasonable response, but having you look at him like that, so far off from the look of love you usually gave him, made his throat close up.
"I don't think I ask for much," you repeated, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to regain some composure. "I don't mind being by myself. I love having space, just like you. I'm able to pass the hours alone doing my own thing. But I'm not completely like you. I want, no, I need to spend time with you still. I need you to talk to me, to hold me, to just be with you. I thought you knew that. Did you forget? Did you know, but you still subjected me to this?"
"... You know why." The words felt bitter on Dottore's tongue, but he went along with them anyway. "My work is-"
"Shut up!" Your mini-burst made him stop talking immediately. "I know about your work. I've been in the lab for years. I know it takes up your time." You hated yelling. You hated arguments. This "conversation", where your lover seemed to have no good response or reaction to your words, was making your head and heart start to throb wildly, but you persisted.
"But it's not an excuse. It shouldn't be. It's not fair to me. When it's been ages and you've had yet to get anything to occupy myself with that I asked for, I try not to bother you. When you've yet to deliver any letters to my friends, I try not to bother you." You began to slide down onto the floor in exhaustion, not even caring about the rapid footsteps that approached you anymore. "I don't say anything when you forget about something we planned or don't show up. When I'm lonely and you turn me away, I just remind you to rest and eat."
Dottore crouched down to your level and wanted to touch you - it was obvious this had agitated you greatly - but he had an aching feeling that you didn't want him to. He wanted to hold you, to make up for causing you this much distress. A part of him had an idea that you were upset, but he didn't know it was to this extent. He doesn't think you've ever snapped at him like that before. He tried to think of the perfect words that would comfort you before you spoke.
"Never... mind. I don't know... why I even try to fight with you. Even I... am not successful at changing your mind."
synopsis: Having been awake from your centuries-long coma for quite a while, you’ve become accustomed to many of Dottore’s segments and their unique personalities, along with their love for you. However, there seems to be a segment that’s rather elusive, and you’re going to get to the bottom of it.
includes: dottore (zeta segment) w/ gn! reader
notes: This is a commissioned work! I strongly recommend reading this, this, and this, in order to get a better grasp on this particular segment, Zeta (a sincere thank you to these anons!) Fragile reader tries their best in order to make a particular gloomy segment smile, the man who feels the failure of being unable to cure them for so long.
Il Dottore was a man of many faces, quite literally.
When you were a student with him at the Akademiya, he always wore one - that perpetually annoyed look that kept everyone else away from him, a perfect fit for him as he didn’t want to be bothered. Though you did see his softer sides eventually, it was nothing compared to what you dealt with now. Ever since you woke up from your coma, you were literally looking at his numerous faces all the time.
From 01’s familiar grumpy face to 02’s wide grins, 04’s severe lack of a smile as well as 18’s relaxed nature, and the exuding confidence from 24. There was also your favorite one, the glowing and giddy face of 10 when the child clung to you. Not to mention, all the other segments of Dottore that were around you. It was a lot to see and get used to… but you grew to love them all dearly, so you eventually gave them names. Real names, instead of numbers.
However, there was one segment that was sort of an outlier. It was strange to single him out, considering how eccentric all of the segments were, but with his odd behavior, it didn’t take long for him to catch your eye. 06, now called Zeta, was his name, and you found yourself struggling to understand him, partially because you barely ever saw him. That was probably one of the strangest things - being asleep for four hundred years made it so that all the other segments longed for your company and touch, stealing you away and hogging your attention whenever they had the chance.
But Zeta, he wasn’t one of the bunch. He didn’t initiate anything but instead watched from afar. You would catch him watching you give a kiss or hug to another segment, before looking away swiftly. You would find him staring at you whenever you laughed or smiled widely, seemingly taking in your expression, before retreating somewhere else. You were confused. Did he not like you or something? Was there a period in Dottore’s life where he didn’t like you anymore?! Alright, you knew that was a dumb question, but still. Zeta never completely ignored you or drove you away, but you wondered why he seemed to be so gloomy and distant around everyone.
Zeta also had a face that was obviously familiar yet unfamiliar to you at the same time. Zeta had that fluffy blue hair you adored, and it was slightly longer than Beta’s hair, but not as long or stylized in the way of the older segments. Sometimes you’d notice it would be unkempt for days, and you’d try to brush it for him, although he initially protested and tried to leave quietly. Still, you made him sit as you weaved the hair brush and your fingers through his locks, which you greatly enjoyed but you weren’t sure if Zeta did as much.
The other segments usually spoke to you, even if it was just small talk when they were busy. But again, Zeta was an odd one. He was always quiet around you. Regardless, whenever you did something sweet for him, no matter how small, he would show some form of gratitude. That was another odd feature of his, the other segments weren’t nearly as openly kind. Of course, they could say those nice words when it was something big, but Zeta seemed to make it a point. Was he really grateful for such tiny acts? You weren’t sure.
Zeta had those gorgeous red eyes that you loved to peer into, but his eyes seemed different from the other segments, and Prime Dottore himself. The others donned a familiar glint that you loved to see, proof of their ambitions and goals and research regardless of what others thought. Zeta’s eyes, however, seemed rather empty and dull to you. Still beautiful of course, but still. And while Delta had a permanently stern expression, Zeta was also quite serious, but he just seemed… somber, in a way. He never smiled. You wondered why. You think he’d look even prettier with a smile, just like how your other lovers do.
Asking your beloved, Prime Dottore himself, didn’t give you much answers. You should have expected that, but it was still disappointing.
“Dottore, all the segments are from past stages of your life, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Like how Alpha is from when you were a student and Omega is you from not too long ago…”
“That is correct.”
“So what stage of life is Zeta from?” Your question makes your lover pause for a mere moment, before moving his pen again like nothing happened.
“It was when you were still in your coma,” was his simple response, much to your dismay.
“Okay…? Almost all of your segments are from when I was sleeping! I mean, is there anything… specific that happened during that time? Anything particular?” You pressed, hoping to see why Zeta would be so drastically different from his other segments.
“No, I simply attended to you and my Fatui duties as usual.” You had to stop yourself from groaning at the obvious lie. There had to be something that had happened to make Zeta so stony-faced and subdued, compared to Prime’s outward and self-assured nature. And despite the complications your illness brought, your determination remained and that only meant one thing.
You were going to understand and love Zeta, no matter how much work it took.
—
Even though you knew where Zeta’s office and room were, whenever you went to find him, he was nowhere to be seen. You don’t know how he manages to be so slippery, but luckily you have a plan. Because no one can be more persistent than you when it comes to pursuing Dottore! You knew that periodically each of the segments reported to Prime whatever they were researching, and that even included Zeta, who seemed to never have much to do with him or have any agents under his command either. (Did he work completely alone? You knew all the segments liked to work by themselves, but they still had agents that worked under them for menial tasks. Zeta didn’t seem to speak to anyone else though.) Regardless, you were just going to lurk near your lover’s office and wait until Zeta finally popped up.
Thankfully, your experiment was a success.
When Zeta exited Prime’s office, you were right there, patiently waiting for him. His normal monotone expression was mildly surprised, probably not expecting you to be right there. Before the segment could speak, you leaned closer, your eyes staring directly into his, which had a permanent darkness underneath.
“Zeta! Hi! Hello! How are you?” Your words came out a bit awkward because of how long you’ve waited for this moment, but you didn’t think it was much of a problem. A few moments passed, as he took in your form, the one that was alive and breathing right in front of him instead of the one that never responded to him. You tried to ignore his intense stare before you got flustered. Just what could he be thinking about? You felt you understood Dottore and all the others well, but Zeta… well, he was a mystery that you’d crack. Hopefully.
“... I am fine. And you?” He had already begun walking but had trouble doing so as you were practically circling him excitedly. The sight made his chest oddly warm, but his usual expression remained, giving away nothing to his true feelings.
“I’m good too! Besides all the other stuff of course,” you didn’t see how his face tightened at the indirect mention of your illness, “But anyway, I have a problem. A very serious problem that only you can help me with,” you declared.
“And that is?” Zeta watched as your cheerful demeanor turned more serious.
“You’re the only segment I’ve barely spent any time with. That makes me quite sad. I want to get to know you some more, Zeta,” you said simply, having no interest in beating around the bush. “I know we haven’t spoken a lot but… I would like to change that. I mean, I know you probably don’t like to speak to people but…” You fiddled with your sleeve a bit nervously now, “But I would still like to try. I like you a lot, you know?” Zeta looked at you as you spoke, noticing every small detail that crossed your face, your eyes that blinked shyly as you bit your lip. Every movement of yours was mesmerizing for the man who once constantly stared at your unmoving face.
“So… what do you say, Zeta?” Ah, that’s right. You were waiting for an answer, now bearing a hopeful look. He should decline, the segment thinks. He’s satisfied with watching you go about your day.
“If that’s truly what you want, then I suppose nothing I say will be able to deter you,” the opposite comes out of his mouth, a feeling that’s buried deep within him, one that can’t help but come out when you’re near. Before he can speak again, to say that being with him probably won’t be the experience you’re looking for, you joyfully celebrate by wrapping your arms around the segment. You fight the urge to kiss him on the cheek.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise it won’t be boring!” Your warmth envelopes Zeta’s body, an unfamiliar sensation that has him frozen. So this is the sweetness that Prime and the other segments indulge in every day? And yet in his mind and body, your coldness from long ago still permeates him. From when you weren’t even able to respond to his words. Before you can notice something is wrong, he tentatively places his hand on your back, making sure his fingers do not twitch from how starved he is for you.
And then your days with Zeta officially began.
—
Rather quickly into your attempt to understand Zeta, the most important thing for you was to get to know him. Talk with him. Figure him out. You found that this task was difficult yet simple at the same thing. Zeta answered your question concisely as you expected him to, but… that was it. He was to the point and nothing else, not the conversationalist like his other segments. It left you with a lot of gaps to fill. Especially since you had no exact idea of what era of Dottore’s life he was from.
But still, you enjoyed your time with Zeta.
You learned that his area of research was medicine, creating and modifying new types for the Fatui’s use. But more importantly, he helped to create medicine for you. You didn’t expect that - you thought only Prime would do such a thing, but Zeta was incredibly skilled. You learned that he did indeed work with no one else at all, having “no interest in dealing with them,” according to the segment.
You also learned that he was immensely attentive toward you, especially when your illness seemed to affect you the most. His eyes followed you when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, examining your body language and expression. If you were dizzy, he’d force you to sit down. If you looked to be more tired than usual, he’d make you go to sleep. The most you had heard him speak so fluently without stopping was when you had the “audacity” to still visit him while you were running a slight fever.
Well, perhaps you should have expected that considering the others would react in a similar way, but you felt as though he was especially serious about it. While the other segments could entertain your excuses to an extent, he wouldn’t. It made you wonder if his stronger feelings had someone to do with his personality. You felt bad for worrying him… perhaps you should try to cheer him up. Actually, making him smile too. Yes, that would do nicely. But how? You weren’t sure if the tricks (more like a bombardment of affection) would work on Zeta. Still, there was no harm in trying.
I. plan a - attack with affection!
“Zeta~ whatcha doing?” You had come up from behind him as he sat in his chair, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Zeta instantly takes note of your warm breath on his neck, the rise and fall of your chest, but ignores his longing for more.
“Reviewing the effects of the medicine on the others,” he replied, neglecting to mention who exactly was being tested on. You sighed, enjoying the fluff of his hair, but slightly disappointed at how he didn’t seem to be fazed whenever you touched him.
“Don’t you think you should take a little break? You’re always working,” you advised as you kissed the stoic man on the cheek. Pretty much all of the segments were constantly working or engrossed with their research, but many found some time to slack off with you, even for a few minutes. Well, it was more like you forced them to do so, but that was beside the point.
“I do not have time to spare with such things,” is Zeta’s immediate answer. All this annoying Fatui work he has to do takes up so much of his time when he should be focusing on helping to cure you. It’s extremely irritating for the segment, but of course, you don’t know that. You whine a bit, nipping his cheek to get him to reconsider, but the consistent somber look remains.
“At least let me keep you company,” you said. Before he could protest or accept, you had already pulled his chair out to make yourself comfortable on his lap. This technique always worked, tested multiple times by you. You had to fluster him at least a little bit! His deep red eyes bore into yours before he sighed.
“If that is what you would like,” he said as he continued to work on analyzing the records in front of him. You were content with lying against him, head braced against his shoulders. At some point, you noticed his hand now rested on your thigh and then moved up your body, which you delighted in.
“You are very warm,” Zeta finally commented after a while of silence.
“Me? Warm?” You were a bit surprised because you were used to being told that you were pretty cold, mostly due to your illness, but Zeta didn’t seem to think so, considering how his arm was snaked around you firmly.
“Yes. Quite warm.” At least compared to all those centuries ago, Zeta thought. You looked at him curiously.
“Do you like it?”
“I do. It helps with focusing.” You almost giggled at that. Here you were trying to distract him, but he said you were helping him focus.
“Then let me warm you up some more,” you whispered, hands slithering up to his shoulders as you pressed your lips against his neck, leaving long kisses down to his collarbone. You then kissed his cheek, trying to gauge his reaction. Still, he wasn’t even blushing, as composed as always… well, a lot of the other segments were like this too, but you hoped you’d be able to see a similar expression as when you teased Alpha.
“Come on Zeta, don’t I deserve some kisses too?” You teased, as your lips got dangerously close to his, nearly brushing each other. You felt him stiffen up at how close you were, his eyes struggling to stay focused on his papers.
“Is it ever possible for you to show restraint?” You smiled at the snarkiness - even though Zeta was more a lot subdued than the others, you still could be a victim of his sarcasm.
“Of course I can. Just not when it comes to you. You’re just too cute,” you said before locking your lips with his, finally indulging in such pleasure. At first, Zeta’s lack of response made you worry that he didn’t want it, but soon enough he kissed you back. It was gentle at first, a bit unnoticeable, but after a few moments, he kissed back harder, catching you off guard. You pulled away, trying to regain your breath, but he then kissed you again, not letting you escape from his grasp. The kiss was greedy, and the way his fingers dug into your arms was as if he felt you would slip away if he didn’t hold onto you hard enough. Of course, you welcomed the feeling along with your beating heart, although you were speechless by the end of it, only staring at the segment with your mouth slightly ajar. Zeta had an amused glint, a refreshing look from his normally empty gaze.
“Why so surprised? Is this not what you asked for?”
“I- Well, yes, it was. And I am not disappointed,” you quickly replied, hoping to seem not too bothered by that sudden assault. Looks like he flustered you instead of you flustering him… but you know what? It was still a win!
“You know what this means, Zeta?” You looked at you silently, beckoning you to continue.
“Mission accomplished! I got you to take a little break, didn’t I?” You giggled at the success of your little plan, while Zeta’s eyes softened a tiny bit, the bags under his eyes looking a little less dark.
“... I guess you did.”
Plan A resulted in a semi-success and failure, but you think you’re a step closer to seeing a smile on Zeta’s face.
II. plan b - gift him something nice!
Gifts were always a good way to make someone smile. How could one not smile, after seeing someone else go out of their way to get something that was thoughtful? No one, that’s right, well, except for Dottore. Some of his segments, to be more specific. You remember quite well when you used to gift Dottore things in the Akademiya, he would always be suspicious of your ulterior motives. Thankfully, he’s changed now, because it would be difficult to have your partner of four hundred years wary of your intentions.
However, you were unaware of what kind of gifts Zeta would like. All the segments had their own preferences that you took into consideration, but you had only gotten to know Zeta recently, so you weren’t sure what he’d like yet. Should you cook for him? You could, but you had already given him a lot of tasty treats. You wanted to get something better for him. In the end, you simply decided to ask him.
“Zeta, what do you like?” You questioned, as you idly observed what he was writing. You think it was something about selling stuff to another Harbinger.
“What do I like?” He repeated. It was an odd question because he thought you’d know such things by now, but he still humored you. “Successful experiments, for one.” You giggled.
“I know that. I mean… if you had to receive something right now, what would it be? A gift, you could say. I could even make something for you!”
“A gift? That’s right, you used to be quite skilled with your hands,” Zeta reminisced about your past creations from when you were a student, more to himself rather than you from his expression, as he ran his longer fingers over the palm of your hands absentmindedly. A good pen that didn’t break would be nice, but he knew that was probably impossible.
“I do not require anything at this moment. There is no need to bother with it.” You hung your head in disappointment, which you should have expected, but you were unwilling to just give up like that.
For a while, you brainstormed. You thought for ages about what gift would be best for Zeta, and one day it hit you.
A picture frame.
Recently you had become knowledgeable about the “Kamera”, a device that took “pictures”, which were images that were captured permanently. It was fascinating to see yourself reflected back at you like that. Zeta liked to stare at you, his preferred method of communication to be honest. So would it not be a nice gift, a picture of you that he could look at whenever you weren’t around? And you could decorate the picture frame cutely! It was perfect! You were excited.
You didn’t bother asking another segment to take the picture for you, because you knew they’d get jealous if they found out what you were preparing for Zeta. You rather not have to think of over a dozen poses to do for each of them right now. You settled on a simple smile for the picture, placed some stickers along the frame that definitely didn’t match the vibe of Zeta’s office, and then put it there one day for him to come and see. You decided not to say anything, wanting to see his reaction.
As soon as he walked into his office, he immediately noticed you lying down, poorly pretending to be reading, and then his eyes wandered to the new addition on his desk. Zeta sighed at your determination, a trait he did admire about you even if you were annoying about it sometimes. Taking a seat, he then looked at the gift you had presented him with. The picture of you glowed back at him, a pretty smile that belonged on your face. It reminded him of the smiles you had back in the Akademiya. There were also the heart stickers that you plastered along the frame, that was simply so you. [Name].
“It is good. You seem adept with a Kamera, which is not surprising.” Your heart stuttered at the praise.
“It is fun to use. We should take some pictures together! I need to add them to my scrapbook.”
Zeta only hummed in response, his mood unusually better than usual, and glanced at the photo for a few more seconds. He then moved it to a better position and returned to his work. You held back a smile.
Plan B was definitely a success!
III. plan c - make him laugh!
Something that always made you laugh was when Dottore or the segments laughed. You always found it captivating to see how different their laughs were. Segments like Alpha and Delta rarely laughed, and when they did, it was more like a scoff. Omega’s laugh, which was usually when he was amused, whether it was genuine or in a mocking way, always made your heart flutter. Beta’s laugh, where you joined in with his hee-hee-ho-hos. So naturally, you wondered how you would get Zeta to laugh. Yes, you knew that you hadn’t even gotten the segment to smile yet, but maybe getting him to laugh could be a step in that direction.
Should you pull out some of your favorite terrible and corny jokes? Well, that probably wouldn’t be very effective - those jokes only served to make you laugh at the segments’ disgusted and humorless expressions. Especially with a segment like Zeta, you think that for all of the loving looks he gave you, he might give you one that made you want to crawl into a hole.
Maybe he was ticklish? It was worth a try, actually - Zandy always ran away when you tried to tickle him, and when you tried to tickle Dottore back in the Akademiya, you think he nearly broke your arm. It didn’t work on the older segments, but maybe it would on Zeta!
On the day you put your plan into action, you were in the perfect position on his lap, examining the best spots on his body that could possibly be ticklish. His ears and neck, or perhaps you should just go for his sides instead. Your hands curled into his shirt automatically, fingers moving up to his side when Zeta spoke.
“I would prefer if you pulled these tricks on the others rather than me, especially when I’m working.” It took a few moments for you to process his words before you sat upright, trying to defend your innocence.
“Hey! I wasn’t going to do anything!” You said, pulling your hands away, but Zeta looked at you blankly.
“There are times when I cannot figure you out, and there are times when you are a very obvious person. This time is the latter.” You pouted at the half compliment, half insult as you snuggled into his shoulder in embarrassment, but Zeta spoke again.
“However, I recommend going for the neck if you are still insistent,” he said, and you immediately regained your energy as your hands gripped his shoulders, wandering dangerously close to his neck. “Though, I believe using your lips would be more effective,” Zeta added on, and you paused as you thought about what he was implying.
“... You’re just trying to get me to kiss you, aren’t you?”
“I am simply giving the answer you seek.”
“You know, you’re just lucky I like giving you kisses,” you mumbled, before giving in to his request. Well, that backfired, but this outcome wasn’t at all bad!
Still, it seems like Plan C resulted in a failure…
IV. plan d - try to discover the truth!
You’ve spent a while with Zeta by now, learning quite a bit about his likes and dislikes - how he didn’t have a preference for being kissed, satisfied with your soft lips being anywhere, how he hated being bothered by any other agents even if it was only occasionally. How his favorite places to kiss you were your wrists and chest, along with the hollow of your neck, exactly where your heartbeat was, and how he quickly became agitated if you showed even the slightest sign of discomfort from your illness.
You loved Zeta and all his little quirks.
But you still had little information as to why he was so dour all the time. It hurts your head sometimes, after listening to Beta’s exuberant rants or Omega’s effortless charisma or even Prime’s endless discussion of his latest research, to Zeta’s quietness that came with dull eyes staring at you. Sure, you had gotten him to open up a bit, but it was just too strange for you to let go of. Maybe you could just ask him, but you didn’t want to be rude… but if you wanted to make him smile, you wanted to know why he was so serious yet so down all the time…
The next best solution was to investigate his stuff. Yes, it wasn’t the nicest thing ever, but you needed answers. You had already glimpsed around Zeta’s office a bit, because you liked to help him wherever you could, and you didn’t see anything that could be a clue. So the next best place was his room. Granted, all the segments’ rooms were pretty bland and empty, but it was still worth a shot.
After you woke up from your coma, the segments started leaving their personal rooms unlocked, because you loved to wander into them and take naps on their beds. Even though they hardly visited their own rooms, it was a nice surprise to come back to the sight of you sleeping peacefully, definitely falling asleep to the scent of their shirt. And it wasn’t like anyone else could find the location of their quarters. Therefore, it wasn’t hard to slip into Zeta’s room.
Of course, his room was practically a copy of all the other rooms. Regardless, your eyes swept through the room, landing on the desk with drawers (because for some reason, they still could work in their own rooms.) That would be a good place to look. Taking a seat at the desk, you found nothing but boring reports, talking about some Patient E43 or X12 or whatever, nothing you were interested in.
Pulling open the drawers, some more loose papers were scattered about, none catching your eye, until you came across a notebook stashed toward the back. It was oddly familiar to the one you remember reading from when you first woke up, that you found in Prime’s office. Curiously, you picked it up and began to skim through the writing, taking note of the date that was from around two hundred years ago.
“It has been centuries since I last heard [Name]’s voice. I must keep replaying their annoying laugh and nagging tone in my head before I forget how they sound in this deafening silence.”
“Pierro spoke to me today. He didn’t say anything outright, but I knew what he meant. My research has slowed, but can’t these other idiots can operate without me? I have important matters to attend to.”
The entries went on, and on, and on, all detailing numerous failures and unsuccessful attempts of Dottore’s. Then, you got to the ones where the date got closer to the current time, a couple of decades ago.
“Even though my hands brush their skin every day, I seem to still be unaccustomed to the coldness of their body.”
“Their pulse is always the same. A dreadful, slow, heartbeat, that is nearly nonexistent. I despise it. And yet no matter how many trials I run, it remains the same.”
You continued to flip through the notebook that detailed so much about what he did in your coma, unethical actions that bordered on desperation. Even if he didn’t directly say his feelings, you could feel them flowing through you. Suddenly, Zeta’s nature made complete sense. It was due to the overwhelming failure he felt, even guilt, you’d say. Even you thought it was an uncharacteristic thing for him to feel - you rarely ever saw Prime display guilt unless it was a serious argument. But it was the only explanation, from these entries at least. Your heart suddenly began to hurt. You caused Zeta all this pain, in a way…
“Are you finished?” The voice now made your heart spike with surprise as you slammed the notebook shut, scrambling up from your seat to see none other than the segment, looking at you with an expression that seemed to say he wasn’t really surprised.
Now, this was just the most classic, cliche thing that would happen in one of the romance novels that always made you mad, but now that it was happening to you, you felt immense embarrassment.
“I- um, well,” you sputtered, trying to find an explanation, but there was none. “I’m sorry, Zeta. I’m sorry.” You avoided his gaze while he sighed.
“Go ahead. Ask what you’ve wanted to ask since the beginning.”
“Did you write this?” Your voice was quiet, the sadness layering over it thickly, as you put the notebook back where it was. No need for it anymore when you had Zeta in front of you.
“Yes and no. The more recent writing is from me. The earlier ones are from Prime himself, though I suppose you could consider it me as well since I am him from that stage of life,” he said as he began to walk toward you, until he was standing in front of you, taking note of your downcast look.
“Zeta… all of this, I don’t…” The vast emotion you felt from the writing made your head swing because you never thought Dottore could feel so… strongly, in that kind of way.
“Those fools from above tried to take you away from me… they tested me,” he breathed in your scent, finger tracing along your neck to feel your pulse. You tried to ignore how quickly you were heating up by the close proximity. “But they failed. Of course they did.” The malice in his voice then dissipated as he stepped away, gritting his teeth, and you already missed his warmth.
“But I…” You quickly interrupted him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly.
“You did not fail me, Zeta. Don’t say that,” you murmured as you brought his hand closer to your face, nuzzling it to your cheek. “I’m alive and breathing in front of you, aren’t I? That’s proof enough of how hard you worked. You don’t need to worry anymore,” you tried to comfort him.
“It is not enough,” he snapped, leaving you silent, as he then realized he didn’t mean to direct that tone toward you, stroking your cheek as a quiet apology. “I should have been able to wake you up sooner. I should have been able to cure you by now. If I was successful, things wouldn’t be the way they are now.”
Your heart couldn’t help but ache at the segment’s pain. You had no clue that he or Dottore himself felt this guilty when you were sleeping. The only thing you could do was hug Zeta, enveloping him in your arms. It was then you realized that even though you wished you could rid him of his sense of failure and guilt right now, you knew you couldn’t. It was a key characteristic of his at this phase… so you could only promise him something.
“Zeta… I can’t change the past or how you felt back then… but I can promise that my heart will never stop beating for you ever again. My arms will be here when you need them, I’ll talk to you so much you’ll miss the quiet, and I’ll make sure I keep you so warm you’ll overheat. I’ll never keep you waiting ever again,” you said gently but firmly, fingers curling into his shirt, hoping your words would reassure him a little bit. Zeta remained motionless for a few moments, and you worried that you said something wrong, but he then wrapped his arms around you too, holding you tightly.
“I will hold you to that, [Name],” he said, his voice still tinged with his regrets but also held something a bit softer.
“Of course.”
“There will be consequences if you go back on your word.”
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“Yes, darling. You need not worry again.”
“Hmph…” Despite his gruff words, the way he held you said it all.
Plan D seemed like a failure on the surface, but you think you were pretty successful.
V. plan e - get a smile on that face!
It had been a little while since your numerous encounters with Zeta, and it was from then that you found out how clingy he could be. Nuzzling into your soft body, holding onto you when you said you were leaving, not wanting to relinquish you to the others. Now that you knew what he went through, you easily understood why though. However, you didn’t mention it at all unless you wanted to be ignored.
And now that you had gotten him to speak a bit more, you were blessed with the usual Dottore you knew and loved - more quips and banter filled the room, instead of the once-normal silence. Still, he liked the quiet between you two better, preferring to observe everything about you and take note of every change you went through, no matter how tiny it was. In a way, it made you more embarrassed than when the other segments would fluster you with words.
More importantly, you were able to become a bit more skilled in convincing Zeta to take breaks. You didn’t want him to constantly work on either his Fatui duties or your medicine, even though he was made to do so. So now you had convinced him to take merely a ten-minute break on your bed after he had finished a nightly check-up. It was always interesting to see how his touch would be fluttering and unsure at first, and then become firmer as he continued to take your presence in. And right now, he was taking in how you were fiddling with his fingers and playing with them. A sure sign that you were thinking of something.
“Is something wrong?” The blue-haired man questioned, as he ran his hand through your messy hair. Zeta liked seeing you like this, even if you tried to shoo him away from how disheveled you looked. It was much more preferable than seeing your unsettlingly perfect appearance and unmoving body, even if you kicked him in your sleep sometimes.
You sighed as you then turned on your side to face him, squinting your eyes at him carefully. Out of nowhere, you then moved your hands to the sides of his face, squeezing his cheeks in an effort to pull up his lips. Of course, it was over as quickly as it started as Zeta quickly removed your hands, scowling at you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He said, not appreciative of the sudden tugging of his face. You only pouted as he held your hands hostage.
“I’ve spent this much time with you, and I still have yet to see you smile…” You buried your face into the soft pillows to lessen your disappointment.
“A smile?” The segment scoffed. “Is that what you were after the whole time? How meaningless.”
“It’s not dumb! It’s very important to me,” you protested. “Please, can I get a smile? A grin? Even an annoying smirk would do!” You pleaded with Zeta, seeing as it was your last resort, considering all your other plans didn’t work. Unfortunately, it looked like it wasn’t going to work on him in the slightest.
“No.”
“With sprinkles and cherries on- mhph!”
“Go to sleep,” he interrupted you as he pressed a finger to your lips, silencing your plea, before getting off the bed, already returning to his work. Sadly, your arms weren’t long enough to drag him back in time.
“Zeta,” you whined, wanting to indulge in his embrace some more although the blankets were already quite warm. “Don’t go so quickly.”
“Your eyes are drooping. The medicine is kicking in, so go to sleep,” his dry response made you grumble, but you knew he was looking out for you in his own way.
“Fine… good night, Zeta. Love you.” The segment had no response other than switching off the lights, and letting you get your rest.
You fell asleep thinking that hopefully, Plan F would finally get him to smile, not aware of the small smile that graced his lips.
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Akademiya Dottore/Zandik. He is scared of fire due to experiences from his hometown, and you comfort him. Masterlist.
Now that you’ve gotten close enough with Zandik, he had found it efficient to drag you out on his little unsupervised and unapproved expeditions. Really, it was actually quite an honor for him to trust you like this! And, of course, you’d take advantage of his quiet, mumbling praise. It was always pretty fun to go out on these adventures with him, as it was a good combination of research and his cute ramblings.
This particular journey was meant to last a few days, and naturally, you had come prepared for camping in the wild. Tents were set up, food was warmed up, and of course, you’d made a decent campfire to light up the darkness. You were pretty proud of your work. Zandik, on the other hand, had gone from ranting about his discoveries to being odd in a sort of way that didn’t suit him.
His snark decreased when you questioned him, and instead, his answers became short. Even more noticeably, instead of sitting closer to the fire, he was sitting all the way by the tents, seemingly unwilling to move. On the ground, too - after all the work you did to get these logs over here! In an attempt to get him quipping back at you, you tried to lighten the mood.
“What, don’t tell me you’re scared of some fire?” You were a bit surprised, considering all of the other… things he dabbled in. Zandik’s lack of a witty response made you immediately regret your words and backtrack. “S-Sorry,” you quickly apologized.
Well, that was an awful idea. It wasn’t exactly surprising that Zandik could fear things. After all, you were the one who saw humanity in him - and that means fear. But you didn’t expect it to be fire, of all things. He always seemed fine being in the kitchen… maybe because this fire was so much bigger?
Regardless, the mood had become more awkward, and you sought to do something about it. You made your way over to Zandik and plopped down next to him, although you left a good bit of space in between.
“Sorry,” you apologized again. “I… didn’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s fine,” Zandik responded dryly. You guessed he wasn’t liking this conversation either, seeing as he probably wanted to hide this from you.
“… Do you want me to put it out?” You glanced at the looming fire and back to the scholar.
“Then how will we see?” He scoffed at your suggestion.
“We can just go to sleep.”
“We haven’t eaten yet.”
“We can just wait until morning. Don’t you forget to eat dinner sometimes anyway?” You tried to lighten the mood, but Zandik only quietly sighed. You swallowed nervously - to be honest, you were a bit unsure how to proceed. You wanted to comfort him, but in reality, you didn’t know as much about him as you wished you did. Sure, you’d gotten him to soften up a bit, but he still had a rather tough shell.
You slowly scooched closer to Zandik, giving him enough time to stop you, until your shoulders were brushing each other, drumming your fingers against the grass. Unfortunately, you couldn’t really gaze at the night sky, due to the large forest and trees. So naturally, both of you looked at the fire, flames flickering around at a safe distance.
Looking at Zandik, you noticed how fire lit up his red eyes beautifully. He was acting as if it didn’t bother him, but he still seemed tense. Little did you know he was remembering the flames of his hometown that still chased him.
“Can I… touch you?” You said, hoping you weren’t making him uncomfortable. What you were doing probably seemed out of place, but words weren’t going to work.
“Hmph, regardless of what I say, you’d tackle me anyway, wouldn’t you?” Zandik huffed and crossed his arms, remembering all the times your body - warm… tender… soft… (he quickly stopped himself from going down that train of thought) - would suddenly latch onto him, pressing against his back and making him fall on his face, struggling to breathe, although he found your weight oddly soothing. Of course, he still elbowed you to get you off him.
“Hey, I respect you more than you think,” you shook your head at his little jab, knowing that you’d never intentionally hurt him. You were sure Zandik had realized that by now, and he probably thought you were a fool for being so kind.
“Do what you want,” he crossed his arms tighter as if already preparing (and perhaps welcoming) for your touch. You smiled at him, although he didn’t meet your gaze, and then reached for the arm he’d tucked into his chest. Gently squeezing it as a sign, you were able to successfully pull it away and rest his hand on the grass, and place your own on top of his, too.
“You can tell me about it if you want.”
“I don’t want to.” Alright, you expected that since life is nothing like a novel, but your plan was failing at this point. With a near-defeated sigh, you could only rub your hand against his soothingly.
“I just want to help you feel better, but…”
“You don’t know me.”
“I don’t,” you said softly. “I wish I did.”
Even though it had been months into your “friendship” with Zandik (you wondered if he’d even admit to that term), he had hardly disclosed anything important with you. Of course, you didn’t expect him to just randomly do that for you, but it was obvious how well he closed up when it came to certain things. But that wasn’t going to stop you anytime soon.
“What you’ve done is far more than enough.”
“Really? I don’t think I’ve done anything special.” You weren’t sure whether he was being genuine or if this was just to get you off his back.
“You have. You’ve done things both scholars and idiots would do, and surprisingly enough, both have been… appreciated.” You ignored the idiot part and only smiled at his gruffness.
“Okay… I trust you, then,” you replied, squeezing his hand again.
You shouldn’t, Zandik wanted to say, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit better because of your kindness, relishing in the warmth, not from the fire, but from you.
If I say Akademiya Zandik is probably my fav Dottore... 🥺
On another note, I really do need ideas for the 25 y/o segment bc he's next on the list and i basically have no plot. A part of me is still surprised he even made it into the segments 😭🙏
hii i was wondering if you cld maybe write smth abt dottore playing the piano for fragile!reader? maybe she’s having a bout of pain/feeling particularly weaker that day and listening to his playing helps to distract or calm her down? plus i think classical music also helps with pain management so it cld also be like doctor’s orders hahsh
dottie playing the piano hasn’t left my brain since i finished the aq aaa love ur writing sm btw!!
"I assume you read through the studies from the Akademiya I provided you?" Dottore's voice rang out in the grand room, fingers gliding over the keys of the piano in anticipation. The sofa was positioned to the side so he could keep an eye on you if needed as he played, with pillows seated on the edges and a blanket draped over your lap. The small table nearby held some warm tea and a tray of snacks.
"Naturally. I didn't realize the research was so thorough. Reduces stress and anxiety. Helps with insomnia. Improves your mood and lessens pain. The students even use it to help them study," you mused, taking a sip of the soothing concoction your lover specifically prepared for you. "And of course... building a bonding relationship between the player and the audience." The scholar let out a sound of approval at your observations.
"However, although I appreciate the extra knowledge, you really didn't need to show me them to convince me to sit through your little performances." Your voice was small, soft, and tired, yet amused and pleased by his company. "You know that I love listening to you play, regardless of whether it has a medical basis or not." You remember being entranced the first time Dottore played in front of you. It had felt oddly intimate, like this was an easier way of conveying his feelings rather than with words. And that had managed to lull you into peace every time, with only he and you existing in the world.
"I'm well aware of that," he chuckled, "but facts do provide a stronger argument, do they not?" The Harbinger saw a small smile quirk up on your lips, although you didn't respond, and his fell a bit as well. It was enough with the small talk. You were already weak as you were; he would not push you to converse any longer, his fingers getting in position to finally begin playing.
"This is a new piece," Dottore said finally. "It is for you." His lovely muse. With just the first dip of the keys, it had felt like Dottore managed to change the entire atmosphere of the room.
Dottore had the ability to force people to dance to his usually eerie melody, like puppets on a string. But for you, it was a means to get you to relax, and perhaps share with you the sentiment of... love. Maybe it was a sort of emotional release for him too, even. Glancing at you, you had already settled in comfortably as you gazed at his fingers traveling across the keys. It was always interesting to see how adept he was with the instrument.
You didn't know how he managed to play for so long, but he did, until your tea ran out and you had nibbled away at all the snacks, and you were lying on your side watching him now. And he played, and played, tunes created solely for you, making a sense of tranquillity wash over you. There were still the troubles of the world, but in this moment, it felt like there was nothing more important to the scholar than your presence, exerting his time, energy, and skill on just you...
"Did you enjoy it?" You almost didn't realize it when he finally stopped and made his way over to you. It was the moving of your head onto his lap and the stroking of your cheek that made you aware. You gently grasped his arm.
"I did. It was amazing... I feel... a lot better now. Thank you for doing it for me." He smiled at your words.
"I was thinking we should do it more frequently. Even daily, if possible. I will try to set aside a small portion of time every day. Before bed, perhaps?"
"You really don't have to-" Before you finished, his fingers tapped against your lips, and you let out a small sigh. Instead, you caved into sleep rather quickly on Dottore's warm and familiar lap. Hopefully, his songs would follow you to your dreams too.
The eight-year-old Segment was unlike any child you had ever met.
When you were in the Akademiya with Zandik, you had gathered bits and pieces from what he told you about his childhood to somewhat imagine what a little Zandik would look like. It was… difficult to envision, not because you couldn’t form a picture, but because the thought of him being hurt so deeply as a child hurt you too. But when you finally saw the slice of his child self in front of you, you quickly realized the reality was far more cruel than you could ever think of on your own.
His eyes were… empty. For someone so young, not even a glimmer of light could be seen within the redness. It would have comforted you more to see even anger or sadness, but there seemed to be nothing of the sort. And yet, it did not deter you from attempting to befriend him, despite Eight’s initial lack of interest.
He was the child, and yet you were the one wandering after him like a lost kid. The Segment would just stare at you before excusing himself. Perhaps he was confused about why you were speaking to him in such an excited tone. Perhaps he did not know how to deal with it. All he knew was that the others had told him to treat you respectfully but not to bother you, and Eighteen specifically gave him a look every time you tried to usher him closer.
But in the end, a child was a child. A child would think and behave like one no matter how much they buried themselves, and that was also true for little Eight. You had noticed Eight frequently spent his spare time writing and doodling in his notebook, although he would always shut it if you got too close, obviously still guarded around you. At least he had gotten comfortable enough to let you stay in his room. Still, it was easy to piece together what he was doing in there. So, one day you slipped him a drawing of an Aranara you had drawn yourself.
Eight recognized the creature immediately, and you witnessed more emotion than you had seen before, with his eyes widening and mouth parting. He closed his notebook shut and tentatively reached to brush his small fingers against the drawing, and you pushed it closer to him encouragingly.
“Have you ever seen one like this? You know, there are the round ones and-”
“The ones that are skinny with long hats.” Before you could finish your sentence, Eight interrupted you. It was like a switch had been turned on.
“And then there are some with flowers on their heads-”
“And the ones with leaves on top.” It looked like he really was an expert on Aranara facts.
“You know a lot, don’t you?” You beamed at him with interest, and suddenly the child felt a bit shy. It was rare anyone took interest in him or anything he liked, but at the same time, knowing a lot had once gotten him in trouble a long time ago.
“I didn’t expect you could… be so detailed,” Eight said, changing the topic as he brought your doodle close to his face, examining the detail as his nose almost brushed it, in true childlike wonder that he always kept hidden.
“Well, in the Akademiya, you’re usually asked to sketch out your observations like wildlife or architecture, even potential machines and inventions, so I know a bit.” He only continued gazing at the messy Aranara. “You can keep it, if you like.” Eight glanced at you, slowly nodding as he finally set the paper down. He looked a bit more relaxed now.
“Now… would you mind if I see your drawings?” You pressed the tips of your fingers together, brightening with hope. Eight already guessed you had been itching to ask him that for a while. At first, he would have rejected you, but now he felt a bit more… comfortable.
The child Segment didn’t need to answer, only opening his notebook to the first page and leaving it there for you. You clasped your hands together with a resonant ‘thank you’ as you pulled a chair to sit next to him at his desk.
“Some Aranara have hats of different shapes and colors. Some of their hats cover their faces. Others have leaves drooping down instead of hats,” you read aloud from the journal. Each description was accompanied by a drawing. “Some also have bowties or carry around weapons. They’ve also picked up habits from humans, such as cooking or living in houses.”
For someone who didn’t seem to feel much, Eight watched you intently as you examined his notes. Maybe he subconsciously looked for approval. At the very least, you looked to be absorbed in his words, allowing him to feel a bit proud of himself.
“This is some really good research. Thank you for trusting me with it,” you said softly, hand reaching out to hold his, until you stopped midway and drew back. Perhaps it was best not to push things so quickly. “Though… I do think some of these sketches could use some color.”
“I would,” the boy nodded in agreement, “but I don’t have anything to color them with.” A spark of sadness flickered in your heart, knowing that he was chained to the mindset of a child and was not even allowed to indulge in it.
“Well, why don’t I get us some colored pencils and we can fill them in together? Adding a bit of color is sure to add some life, hmm?”
And so a few days later, you were once again sitting near Eight with his notebook open. You had made sure to order the most high-quality coloring supplies for little Eight. Even he could not hold back his excitement, observing them up close one by one and picking out the ones he’d use for the Aranaras. In all honesty, he was more focused on coloring than you, and seemed very intent on making sure everything was accurate… But you didn’t mind. You only gave some pointers here and there and answered his questions on whether the color he chose was good or not.
“Thank you,” Eight said eventually. He couldn’t remember the last time he expressed gratitude for something, because the only thing other people ever did was hurt him.
“Anything for you, sweet one.” He didn’t respond to the pet name, and you quickly worried you had overstepped, before Eight nodded and went back to coloring.
Perhaps if he had just had someone who supported him when he was young and took interest in him, things could have turned out differently.
—
One day, you had called Eight to the kitchen, and he was immediately greeted with a delicious smell.
“Oh, you’re right on time!” You called for him and ushered him closer. He took in the mess of the kitchen before he noticed what was making his mouth water. A tray of baklava sat there, sliced and ready to be served.
“You all still like to eat, don’t you? I thought I’d make something for all of your hard work.” You were busy cleaning with your back turned. “I invited you to have the first bite. Help yourself.”
He and the other Segments would go to the Fatui’s cafeteria, and although it was nice, it didn’t really have food from Sumeru. They would never bring up their dissatisfaction, however. But now, one of his favorite treats from his homeland sat in front of him. The older Segments might have lingered around you some more, but him? The child couldn’t help but want to dig in as soon as possible.
“Thank you.” Those words were starting to become familiar to him again. Eight’s fingers pinched a piece of the dessert and took a small bite before immediately devouring the whole thing. It was probably the best thing he’d ever tasted. He glanced at you before taking another piece, and another…
“Do you like them?” You finished cleaning the area and washing the tools as you made your way to the table. “It’s been a while since I made any so-” You paused when you noticed at least a third of the tray was gone, and the child had stuffed cheeks.
Eight blinked at you. You blinked back. You were at a loss for words before you burst out laughing at the sight.
“Y-You don’t need to eat that fast, you know. I can always make some more.” You grabbed a tissue and began wiping around his mouth. You remembered Zandik being a fast eater back in the Akademiya, but you didn’t know he could gobble stuff down this quick. Eight stiffened as you tenderly wiped off the crumbs and fussed over him, and though it felt weird, it wasn’t weird enough for him to push you away.
“Hmm… I guess I’ll portion the rest for the others. We can give Eighteen the least for being a big meanie. Hehe, don’t tell the others, alright?” Your little accomplice nodded, chewing the dessert slower, not only savoring the flavor but… your kindness too.
Eight had started to open himself up to you, slowly but surely.
—
Little Eight had begun to seek you out on his own, cling to your side, to grab onto your sleeve and look up at you with expectant eyes. With that, the boy had become oddly observant of you.
“You don’t look well,” he pointed out.
“Hm? Oh. I’m… I’m fine. Just a bit tired but-” Before you could finish, Eight grasped your clothes and led you over to sit down. Of course, you couldn’t refuse him. “Really, I don’t-” Eight pressed his small hand against your forehead.
“Your face is warm, and you’re sweating a bit. You should stay here. I’ll get one of the others and the medical record.” It was almost jarring to see a kid assess the situation with such calmness. Perhaps he already had experience with this from Regrator, though. Or maybe he just had to grow up quicker than other children.
“But… you don’t need to do all this. I can take care of myself…” He should just be allowed to be a child, you wanted to say. He shouldn’t have to be in this dreary lab with experiments of this nature.
“I want to.” Eight was surprised those words left his lips as easily as they did. He had thought he had become numb to the suffering of others. He knew something was wrong with him for that. But when he looked at you, it made him upset that you were in pain.
“… You’re very sweet. Thank you.” The others had told you that the child Segment had already lost his compassion, but every day, you learned that clearly wasn’t true.
—
The eight-year-old carried around his notebook like it was a lifeline, clutching it to his chest. If he had to put it down, he’d always make sure it was within his line of sight. You knew that his notes were important to him, but you couldn’t help but feel that there was something else to this behavior.
You found out the answer one day, when you were in Eight’s room. He was searching for his notebook in front of you when he opened his drawer to reveal a few copies of the same black notebook, before grabbing one of them.
All of the notebooks looked the same, so you had no idea he had multiple. But it didn’t strike you as unusual at first. You just assumed he had filled up that many notebooks with his ideas, and naturally, you wanted to see.
“Do you mind if I read these?” You pawed at the covers.
“You can, if you want. But you probably already read most of them.” That made you pause.
“What do you mean?”
“Those notebooks all contain the same content. I just wrote most of the important stuff in all of them.” So… he was making duplicates of the same thing?
“But why?”
“Sometimes I misplace them. And then sometimes one of the others throws it out.”
“Throw… throw them out?” You repeated, as if you were in disbelief, but Eight seemed to be unaffected.
“It’s mostly Eighteen that does that. But I don’t want to lose my ideas, so I just write them down in multiple places just in case.” Your jaw was left slack as Eight calmly flipped through his current notebook.
“A-And what does he say?”
“That it’s childish. Or a waste of time. Things like that.” He didn’t think about it when you didn’t respond, but before he knew it, you were up and pacing around the room. “What’s wrong?”
“He can’t do that to you!” You had never spoken to him this loudly, which took him off guard, and you recognized that and took a deep breath. “That… is just wrong. I will not let him do it again. I’m- I’m going to speak to him right now!” Eight realized that this was the first time he saw you truly frustrated, and it was on his behalf, too. You almost burst out the door before he called for you.
“Wait,” the child requested. Never one to ignore Eight, you listened. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do. If I’m here, no one is doing that to you. Why, I might as well go and throw out his property and see how he likes it!” Eight felt a bit of warmth prick his face at your outspokenness. But he really didn’t want to start a fight with Eighteen, which would probably escalate to the others, with Thirty-Five telling them not to hinder his work, Forty-Five laughing, Sixty-Five being tired, and the original Zandik… what would he do?
“I’d prefer it if you stayed with me.” You opened your mouth and closed it again, expression softening.
“Well then… I guess me and Forty-Five will do something to get back at him in secret instead then.” You couldn’t help but give in to Eight, especially when he was learning to be so genuine with you. You sat on the edge of the bed with him and rubbed your hand on his back. However, you still looked troubled.
You thought back to the days you spent with the original Zandik back at the Akademiya. Eighteen was the only Segment you had a concrete understanding of, considering he was a replica of the one you knew so deeply when you were young. You had seen his bitterness firsthand, the desire for himself and his ideas to be acknowledged, only for it to never happen, sending him deeper into his resentment for the world. He would grip you, stubborn tears rolling down his face that he silently asked you to ignore. Perhaps if you had remained in the waking world, you could have done something, but…
“You know, um, Eight,” you began, and the Segment gave you his attention. “About Eighteen… I wouldn’t say he hates you. He just…” The child’s eyes bore into you as he watched you fumble for words. “I guess… He might be a little jealous of you.” That seemed to surprise the little boy.
“I don’t understand. There is nothing I have that he doesn’t.” Eight furrowed his brows, carefully thinking, and a part of you was flattered he was taking your opinion so seriously. “Eighteen has his own lab, office, equipment, proposals, funding, experiments… I don’t really have any of that.” Well, there had been proposals he had been drafting for Pantalone, some with your assistance, but he had yet to present any of them… Most of his duties included assisting the others with their tasks instead.
“Well, all of that is true but… Eighteen doesn’t have your mind.” Perhaps deep down, Eighteen wished he too could be a bit “childish.” Although Eight had clearly gone through something rough, he managed to retain something Eighteen could not. Could Eighteen ever find something and pursue it with pure wonder and excitement as a child could? He couldn’t. Instead, the older Segment was only trapped within the harsh reality of this world’s cruel rules and laws. But how could you explain that to a little boy?
“By which I mean, he doesn’t have the proper mind to appreciate your dear Aranara. And it’s a shame, because he wants to, but… can’t.” You tried to word it as best you could. “Of course, what he did is still wrong, but…” You trailed off, really not knowing what to say, but Eight only leaned into your embrace. He could understand that this was your attempt to make him feel better. Honestly, you had already done more than you knew, because Eighteen always seemed to be in a far better mood whenever you were around. And whether he liked it or not, the older Segment still stayed with him for a lot of things.
The original Zandik, the one who was fascinated with you more than any sort of research, had once told him that your warmth could fill an entire room. Obviously, that didn’t make sense in the literal way, so it was metaphorical. But only now did Eight understand what the older man had meant by that. Actually, now he understood why all the other Segments trailed after you, looking for attention.
You were truly a warm person.
His eyes flickered from you to the floor, and back to you again, as if he was making an important choice. Within the span of a few moments, the tiny Segment turned to fully embrace you, arms wrapping around your body, making you softly gasp. Without hesitation, you gently reciprocated and held his smaller body. Eight always did like when you patted the top of his head.
The child really liked you a lot. Maybe you could convince the others to let him take a trip to Sumeru? Or at least get one of his proposals approved? But for some reason, those things didn’t seem as much of a priority now, when compared to spending time with you.
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I've officially developed a soft spot for Pantalone.....
Also, I genuinely wish that we could've seen more of the segments, or just Dottore in general💔 I feel like it would've been funny to see their interactions in canon especially with the beef between them
But either way, my brain still hasn't accepted the canon version. Whenever I think about Dottore, my brain still leads me to your work and I prefer it to be that way🥹
No cause literally you were one of the biggest reasons why I fell in love with his character, the way u wrote in general and how u portrayed him as well! So yes, ur work is what's canon to me, hoyo can go eat dust <3 love lots to u
YESSS ME TOO!! 😭😭 Ofc I'm biased but I wish there were more interactions in the tree marrows, or if we could even hear the segments be voiced in that cutscene. I was telling my friend that witnessing segment drama would either be really funny or really sad at times... and Honestly after looking at the convos it is probably right because we go from 45 calling 8 adorable and then 18 throwing out his notebook because of his jealousy and Zandik being confused over it 😭
On another note, I find it amusing that the segments are using words like "meh" and "yeah" 💀 i do wonder if it's the same in the original text or a translation thing because i could NEVERRR imagine Omega saying 'meh' 😭😭
AND THANK U SM 😭🥺🥺🥺 I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY DOTTORE THAT MUCH!! 💕💕💕 It makes me so happy that i was able to convert you to a Dottore enjoyer ... a new dottoling... 🫶🙏 I AM VERY ENRICHED THAT YOU THINK MINE IS CANON!!! MWAHHH ILY2!! ALSO YES!! WE NEED MORE PANTALONELINGS!!! JOIN ME!!