(I have so much to say but also nothing. If I see one more mf say he's dead and won't ever be playable like Capi, then start counting your final hours because I will personally come after you. Including the dottore fans who doom post)
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Warnings: A lot of talk about childbirth, labor, and possibly inaccurate medical terms. Mentions of storing and freezing the placenta. Segments using swear words and being involved with the delivery (except 8, he's a minor). Segment 35 (Omega), being a little possessive and self-centered as always. No smut, but mentioned and implied nsfw.
Sitting in the labor room, you held the red scarlet-eyed baby in your arms, stroking the infant's tuft of blue hair every now and then. Segment 8, or "Little Doctor" as you like to call him, leaned over the side to look at the newborn, an innocent sort of curiosity brimming in his very own pair of red eyes.
Your baby was born healthy, looking just like a mix of both you and Zandik. He'd helped deliver it himself, muttering about how he trusted no one but him to take the task upon himself.
Well, technically, it was just Segment 25 who helped with the main task; the others volunteered themselves with other stuff, such as weighing the baby, stitching your tears up, cleaning the blood, storing your placenta and umbilical cord for research purposes, etc.
All the segments insisted on helping out, even Little Doctor, who unfortunately had to sit outside for most of the labor but was eventually allowed in to see the baby and check on you. Everyone's main goal was to ensure the mother and newborn were both safe and healthy.
Now that everything was successfully executed, you and the newborn were both taking a small, well-earned nap. All the adult segments turned to look at one another with suspicion.
Who the fuck was the baby's real father?
They all had slept with you, came inside of you, so the possibility that one of them was the father was 20%.
Except they were all Zandiks.
They all had the same DNA, the same blood. They might as well all be identical twins, if identical twins were all the segment of a man who died a century ago.
"Well? What were we all even expecting? That the baby would be born, and we could take a DNA test to verify the paternity? We all share the same blood dipshits. Ever thought of that?" Segment 18 spat out, looking at the other older segments after they'd all stepped out.
Segment 25 merely took off his mask and gloves, opting to let the other Segments deal with the guy instead.
"We were hoping to keep the peace until the baby was born to keep our Lady's pregnancy smooth. You know she gets troubled when we all get into unnecessary fights." Segment 65 explained, stepping closer to your door to make sure it was locked in case their argument woke you up. "A miscarriage would've been tragic. Besides, we all had our own goals to accomplish during this period. I doubt Omega is going to let you have a share of the placenta."
Omega, or Segment 35, who snuck off to the side to keep your placenta in a freezer, shot them all a dirty look. "How rude! Preserving the placenta has it's benefits-"
"We never said it didn't. But must you be so greedy as to keep it for yourself?" Segment 45 cuts off.
"-because I am the most research-oriented out of all of us, one who shall produce the most fulfilling results. In case of a genetic disease or a tumor, it will prove to be very useful." He preened
"You talk as if you're the real father." scoffs Segment 18.
"Well, of course I am. Who else but I could produce such brilliant progeny."
The comment riled up Segment 18, who walked up to Omega's face, his sharp teeth bare, "So sure of yourself, aren't you, old man? You sure your sperm can even swim that far? Your cock get that hard? Well, getting erect would be no problem for such a beauty; however, I bet her fallopian tubes shriveled the moment you got in you son of a-"
"Alright, alright. There's no need to stir up a ruckus right here," said Segment 25, wiping his hands dry on a towel, clearly the most tired of them all.
Unlike the other Segments, he had to be on-call and close to you that day, and hence had stayed by you till the moment you had pushed the baby out. "She's still inside, sleeping, taking a well-earned nap before one of us has to wake her from her blissful slumber in two hours to take her vitals again. Not to mention, we will need to attend to my newborn as well. For now, we could all take a moment, Segment 8 will alert us should anything happen-"
"What do you mean, 'my newborn'?" Segment 45 butts in, "You didn't even try to debate whether the child is yours or not."
"Well, of course, because it is mine. Only fools fight over what's not theirs-"
"Get a load of this asshole-"
"Can we all take this somewhere else, the baby might wake up-"
"Dottore!" a voice booms from down the hall, along with the sound of multiple footsteps.
All Segments turned around to see The Regrator, Pantalone, along with a few Fatui agents carrying many boxes and bags with them.
"I believe congratulations are in order? How is the missus and the baby?" asked Pantalone.
"Who let this guy know about her labor? I thought we were to keep this information from the other Harbingers," sneered Segment 25.
"And you certainly did, I assure you. No one other than me knows about this little joy of yours. I only happened to find out about this because the 8-year-old segment seemed quite anxious about not being let into the operating room. Seeing as you did not hesitate to let him watch the dissection of the original Zandik, my only conclusion about not allowing him in the operating room was that your wife was giving birth. That, and the fact I hadn't seen her for quite some time. Seemed easy to deduce." The Regrator stated, shrugging and rustling his fur coat.
"And what if it was a surgery like, say, an appendectomy? What use are the gifts then?" Segment 18 pointed out.
"Then I believe that you must get started on producing a progeny, no? Anyway, I've brought a few tokens of goodwill. I hope you'll accept them from a friend."
"Leave them out here. She's sleeping, and we'd rather not disturb her or the baby." Segment 65 said, pointing towards a table for the gifts to be kept. "We'll let her know of them as soon as she's able to concern herself with things other than herself and the baby. I hope you understand she's not in the condition to receive guests at the moment."
"That's alright." The Regrator signed his agents to keep the presents on the table and take their leave.
"Speaking of not disturbing the baby, though, what were all of you arguing about? Well, it's not rare to see each of you in disagreement with the other. Rather, it happens pretty often to be rare. But an opportunity that brings all of you together to have such a conflict......."
"We were discussing who the real father of the baby is," said Segment 18.
Pantalone nodded in understanding.
"I'd hardly call that a discussion. But does it truly matter? All of you are the same person, and hence, similar at your core. I'm sure the child would benefit from having multiple parental figures. I wouldn't call it a major issue."
"It is." Said all the Zandiks there in unison.
"Dear Feofan, it seems you still don't understand us all, even when you are a dear friend of ours. We all may be derived of the same Zandik, but as Dottore, we're all different," Omega explained, "Our values, our approach to research, our research, and our view of this world, they all differ due to the number of memories we carry. Determining the true father is determining whose legacy will be carried on. It isn't as simple as 'raising a child'."
".......so it has to do with your ego," Pantalone cheeked.
"How rude, I have genuine affection towards my wife and my child," said Omega.
"There he goes again," Segment 45 groaned, rolling his eyes.
"Oh my god, it's MY baby you twat," argued Segment 18.
"Well, you're certainly not raising my child with that mouth of yours," said Segment 65 calmly.
"Gents, gents," Pantalone raised his hands, trying to mitigate and calm down all the Dottores before it would escalate, lest they end up dissecting another one of them again.
"I have a solution. How about you solve this the way you know best? You're all intelligent and highly educated individuals; surely you can come to a conclusion amongst yourselves."
All the Zandiks looked at each other, as if they had never considered that idea.
"Determining the father of the baby through research. We can't do a DNA test, but....." mused Segment 45.
"Surely, only DNA can't be the only factor to determine the paternity," suggested Segment 18.
"If we can't find a way to find a match with blood, tissue, or DNA, we could always narrow down the possibility of one of us being the father by calculating the fertility factor of our sperm, the time between conception and delivery, and the general condition of the mother and the baby during pregnancy," Segment 35 muttered.
Pantalone sighed, seemingly relieved that he had managed to prevent another Zandik from being dissected today.
"I must, however, object to executing this plan right now," said Segment 25, "her postpartum period is to last for at the very least 2 months, and we have a newborn to care for as well."
"Naturally," all Segments agreed and nodded.
"Then," smirked Omega, "we shall have a time limit of 2 months to conduct our research. Whosoever manages to bring concrete proof along with the timeline and convinces everyone that the baby is theirs shall get to claim the progeny and raise them. Do we all agree?"
"Yes," said all the Segments.
"Then shall I volunteer as a referee? You know, as a neutral party, to keep things nice and fair?" asked Pantalone.
"Of course, friend. You're more than welcome to invite yourself to my research discussions. You are, after all, the one funding all of our experiments," said Omega gleefully.
Pantalone watched with interest as all of the Segments dismissed themselves, some going to rest after what he assumed was a long day of being in the delivery room, others sprinting to their assigned labs to get a head start on their research, while the rest stayed to be available for you.
'Ah,' Pantalone thought to himself, stepping outside and pulling out a cigarette, 'this whole ordeal shall be quite entertaining.'
Part 2??? (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
a/n: hello hello everynyan |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ノ゙ I wrote this at 3 am in a fever dream lol. Fun fact: kids of identical twins are genetic half-siblings. SO if you have an identical twin and have a baby, the baby is also half of your twin lol. It gave me the idea about what if multiple people shared the same DNA and boom that's how I wrote this fic in 2 hours when I have like 12 other drafts that have been collecting dust ehe (ᵕ—ᗜ—) I might make a few edits here and there so pls excuse any grammatical errors lol I don't know english well ≽^•⩊•^≼ anyway enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
@luminarylorecat Do not repost, translate, adapt, feed into AI, or claim this work. Reblogs and links are appreciated; copying and reuploading are not.
Trying different flavors of lip-smackers with segments!
Warnings: Making out? Kinda smut? (not with 8 years old one of course, its a cheek kiss for him.) Humiliation kink(idk)?
It's kinda long eheh. Also, I couldn't make the text smaller in some places, so I apologize if it looks strange.
Assistant reader!f (in her +20ies) x Dottore Segments
(Another assistant reader if you wanna read!)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: You buy a pack of lip-smackers and you try each flavor with one segment at a time, which is best done by kissing them.
8 years-old (a kiss on the cheek!) cherry-cola You found him in your room again, it was his usual spot when he escapes from olders’ bullyings. Curled up near the edge of your bed with his notebook resting against his knees, scribbling down something with that tiny serious expression he always wore whenever he thought too hard. He barely even noticed you entering.
“I bought these a few days ago,” you said while dropping beside him onto the mattress. You held up the little package of lip smackers in front of him. “I still can’t decide which flavor to try.”
The eight-year-old glanced up briefly. "And…? I don't see the problem that relates me here?"
“Hm. Fair point, Doctor.” You liked calling 8 years old one Doctor a lot, and deep down he liked it too, made him feel important among them.
You looked through them dramatically before pulling out the cherry one.
“This one then.” He watched carefully as you applied it, quiet as always. Probably trying to understand your reasoning.
Then before he could ask anything, you leaned over and pressed an exaggerated kiss against his cheek.
“Mwah.” A loud one.
He blinked. Slowly, his fingers touched the spot you kissed. Then he sniffed faintly, brows furrowing in curiosity.
“…Cherry?” You smiled immediately.
“Yeah, aren’t you a smart cookie?”. “I’ve never seen a cherry flavored one before.” He said while ignoring your teasing.
“Well,” you answered while nudging his shoulder lightly, “that just means there are still lots of things left for you to research, Doctor.”
Then he quietly pulled his notebook a little farther away from you, to hide his face before you could try kissing the other cheek too.
18 years-old, lemon-fanta! Finding the eighteen-year-old was always funny because he acted like he wanted to disappear while leaving the most obvious trails possible.
With a pile of stolen books from other segments, and dragged chair to the corner of the library he builds a castle from books and then tries to hide himself in them.
And somehow, every single time, you still found him.
He even once told you:“You can find me whenever you want. I only find you when you want.”
You approached quietly, fingers brushing over his shoulder. He startled immediately.
Actually jumped a little.
His head snapped toward you before he tried recovering his dignity by looking back down at the book in front of him.
“…What are you doing here, handsome?” you asked with a teasing tone.
“Ugh…Nothing.”
He answered with that sappy-sulky voice.
“Why did you even come here and disturb me?” he muttered while turning a page he clearly wasn’t reading anymore. “Don’t you have things to do? Be a useful assistant and maybe bring me coffee.”
The moment he saw you, he always tried acting annoyed first.
But you knew him too well.
“Oh, of course I have things to do,” you said. “And I should probably bring you your coffee too.”
He hummed with agreement.
“But before that,” you continued while stepping closer, “I need to do something else first.”
That finally got his attention(which was actually long lost the moment he heard your voice).
He lifted his head from the book slowly, chair sliding back just a little as he looked up at you with obvious curiosity hidden behind forced indifference.
“…What thing?”
You leaned down before he could think too hard about it and kissed him.
Bright lemon flavor spreading instantly against his lips from the gloss you had applied earlier.
He reacted immediately. He never misses his chance. One hand grabbing at your hip so fast it almost made you laugh, like he’d been waiting for an excuse all day. Eager.
And then you pulled away. A quiet, frustrated whine escaped him before he could stop it. This made you burst into laughter instantly.
His face went red so quickly he covered half of it with his left hand, glaring at you from behind his fingers.
“Just because I’m not as scary as the others,” he muttered bitterly, “doesn’t mean you can tease me whenever you want.”
You stood up again, pretending not to notice the way he tried to cover the immediate bulge occured when you sat down.
“I don’t know,” you said lightly while fixing your sleeve. “I think I’d love to see you act all crazy and scary too.”
His eyes widened slightly.
And before he could recover enough to say something smug back, you were already leaving the library laughing while he sat there completely flustered in the middle of his little book castle.
25 years-old, sprite! The twenty-five-year-old’s room was always quiet in the most unwelcoming way possible. He had papers scattered across the desk, lots of half-written reports, open books etc.
The faint scratching sound of his pen moving across paper that you could hear behind the door. You knocked twice against the door.
“You can’t come in,” he answered immediately.
You leaned against the doorway dramatically. “I mean, there was something urgent I had to ask you.”
“Well then,” he replied flatly from inside, “go find someone less bothered by your existence. I’m busy.”
You rolled your eyes.
“The earlier you help me, the earlier you’ll get back to your report.”
A long groan came from behind the door. But since he didn’t actually tell you to leave again, you pushed the door open anyway.
He didn’t even look up at first. “You’re too stupid to figure out your own unimportant problems?” he asked while continuing to write. “Why do they even keep you as their assistant? You clearly lack the ability to assist anyone.”
You barely reacted anymore honestly.
Every segment had their own way of being awful. His just happened to involve constant humiliation wrapped in distinct wording with attractive voice. So instead of getting offended, you simply smiled and walked over beside his chair.
“I don’t lack the ability to assist,” you corrected lightly. “You’re simply too good to require assistance.” That made him glance up.
You leaned your elbow against his shoulder, close enough for him to smell the sweet artificial citrus from your gloss.
He huffed quietly under his breath.
Then suddenly his hand grabbed your waist and pulled you directly into his lap.
You yelped softly from the force of it, which made him enjoy more.
“I’ve never seen anyone as interested in being bullied as you are,” he muttered near your ear while squeezing your thigh harshly. “It’s almost concerning.”
“Well,” you said sweetly, “if it’s coming from you, who am I to reject it? I am your assistant after all.”
His fingers tightened briefly before he leaned back in his chair with obvious annoyance.
“Whatever you needed, ask quickly,” he sighed. “I’m too busy to deal with your lame ass.”
Instead of answering, you kissed him.
He reacted instantly to that. One hand gripping your hip harder while he bit down lightly against your lower lip in that mean way of his that was always more provoking than affectionate.
You were kissing him with that sprite flavor he would definitely despise.
You almost laughed into the kiss. Especially when he started to make you lean back towards the desk like he intended to keep you there much longer.
Before he could though, you pushed against his chest lightly and stood back up.
He looked irritated immediately. “Well, I was actually going to ask about my new lipstick,” you said while fixing your clothes. “But I guess you didn’t like it?”
He stared at you for a moment.
Then grinned slowly.
“I hate it.”
35 years-old(Omega), vanilla-cola! Omega’s room was usually quieter than the others and with Nod-Krai trip approaching, the atmosphere had only gotten worse. Documents scattered across the desk, unfinished calculations glowing faintly across screens, reports waiting for signatures. You’d spent the last hour helping him organize materials for the trip without daring to distract him even once.
The moment you entered earlier, you had planned to greet him properly.
With a small kiss, you know.
But the second he started giving instructions, you abandoned the thought immediately. It felt too risky making him wait over something so trivial.
So instead, you focused entirely on being useful. Exactly what his assistant should be, as you could feel that he likes you most when you show usability. So, you barely even remembered the vanilla-cola you had applied beforehand.
Until... “Why,” Omega said suddenly from somewhere behind you, “am I smelling vanilla?”
Your fingers immediately flew to your lips.
Right. The new lipstick.
You turned toward him with a small smile. “Oh, I tried a new flavor earlier. Didn’t realize the scent was that strong.”
His eyes settled on your mouth instantly. “Get up.”
You obeyed before thinking twice. The chair scraped softly against the floor as you stood, and Omega stepped closer without another word. Then his fingers slid beneath your chin, tilting your face upward carefully. Neither gentle nor rough. His gaze stayed fixed on your lips with a level of attention that made your breath catch embarrassingly fast.
“I don’t think you wear these because your lips are chapped,” he said calmly. “They always look shiny regardless.”
Your eyebrows lifted slightly. You didn’t realize he paid attention to things like that or maybe you simply weren’t supposed to know?
“Well,” you answered softly after a moment, “of course I applied this for you.”
That earned the faintest smile from him. Then he leaned closer.
Close enough that you could already feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. If either of you moved even slightly, the distance would disappear completely.
You waited but Omega stopped there.
“It smells lovely indeed,” he murmured quietly.
Then he released your chin, turned away from you entirely, and continued gathering the papers for Nod-Krai like nothing had happened.
Leaving you standing there like that, made you think that everyone was somehow getting a taste of his cruelty.
45 years-old, strawberry-fanta! The meetings of the Harbingers were sometimes unbearably long. So, even after an hour passed, you were still waiting. Despite the fact that he specifically told you:
“If it takes too long, leave.”
You sat quietly on one of the hallway benches outside the meeting room, legs crossed while absentmindedly applying the strawberry-flavored gloss you had bought earlier. Mostly just to distract yourself from boredom.
Then finally you heard the doors opened. You immediately stood up as the Harbingers began leaving one by one. Voices echoed through the hallway, coats brushing past marble floors, conversations overlapping carelessly.
You spotted him instantly. But before you could approach, you overheard Pantalone’s amused voice.
“After you’re gone, perhaps I should steal that assistant of yours,” he said lazily. “Even someone like you seems interested in her. There must be something exceptional there.”
Dottore laughed softly. “Well, ask her after I leave. If she wishes to join you, she may.”
Then he glanced toward you briefly. “Though, for your sake, you should know she only shows interest in me. I doubt she’d perform quite as enthusiastically under your supervision.”
Your lips curled into a smile before you lowered your head slightly to hide it.
Eventually the hallway emptied, leaving only the two of you. You approached him quietly and took the bag from his hand before he could object, naturally falling into step beside him as you both walked down the long corridor.
“I told you not to wait if it took too long,” he said after a moment. “Why are you still here?”
“Because I’m your assistant,” you answered simply. “If you had to stay in that room for twenty-four hours, then I’d stay here for twenty-four hours too. I’ll wait whenever you need me.”
That made him smile faintly.
The two of you continued walking side by side. Then suddenly he spoke again. “Am I hallucinating,” he mused lightly, “or do you smell like strawberries?”
You smiled immediately. “Nothing escapes from you, hm, Doctor?”
Compared to the other older segments, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. Easier to tease too. But he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.
“Well, if I fail to notice the changes in my lovely assistant,” he said calmly, “or the little shenanigans she keeps pulling, then I’d simply be ignorant of my surroundings.”
Slowly, you linked your arm with his as he allowed it naturally.
“So?” you asked while looking up at him. “Is that a bad thing or a good thing?”
He turned his head toward you fully then. “You shouldn’t ask such obvious questions.”
And before you could reply,he suddenly pushed you gently toward the wall beside the hallway. You let out a surprised sound as your back touched the cold surface behind you. His hand guided your arms down instinctively so he could cage you there easily.
For a second, you just stared at him. And then he kissed you.
The strawberry flavor mixed between you instantly while his hand rested against your waist with terrifying ease. He made you feel overwhelmed in a completely different manner. Like standing too close to someone entirely aware of their own charm.
When he finally pulled away, you almost stumbled forward from how weak your knees suddenly felt which caused a laughter from him.
“You know,” he mused while watching your expression carefully, “I think I understand why the eighteen-year-old is so obsessed with you.”
You immediately smiled back. “Oh?” you teased softly. “Is it only him?”
He extended his arm toward you again patiently, waiting for you to take it.
“No,” he answered after a moment. “I don’t think it’s only him.”
65 years-old, fanta! You found him exactly where he always was. Sitting near the large window of his office with a book resting in one hand while the other tapped slowly against the armrest of his chair. The room was quiet except for the ticking of some old mechanism nearby.
He acknowledged your presence immediately but didn’t look up.
“You’re lingering,” he said dryly. “Which usually means you’re about to become troublesome.”
You smiled to yourself and walked closer. “Maybe only a little.”
A quiet hum escaped him at that. You had applied the Fanta flavored one earlier, and honestly, compared to the others, you weren’t even sure if he would tolerate it. He always acted above things like that.
Still, you leaned carefully against the side of his chair.
“So, what are you reading about? Maybe something interesting?”
He answers back without waiting, “Not everything we read needs to be interesting, sometimes you just read to… read.”
Which caused a small nod from you. To change the topic, to make him talk to you more, “I bought something new today,” you said casually. “Though you’ll probably hate it.”
That finally made him glance at you over the edge of his book.
“Probably.” You laughed softly.
“See? You're too uncurious for a research doctor.”
“Experience allows me to predict disappointment accurately.”
“But no matter what, don’t you think you should try first, there’s always possibility for a different outcome.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. He already understood what the new item was you found. Of course, it wasn’t a dagger or an elixir you came up with. The smell of orange was too heavy to not to notice.
You slowly reached toward the lower edge of his mask then, fingers brushing lightly against the material. Waiting, giving him enough time to stop you if he wanted.
Surprisingly enough, he didn’t. Instead, he sighed quietly like you were exhausting beyond reason.
“Ridiculous girl,” he muttered. But he tilted his head upward anyway. Just enough for you to slide the lower half of the mask away and reveal his lips.
You were not seeing his eyes but you were aware that his gaze stayed on your face the entire time as you leaned closer. “You always act like you’re above these things,” you whispered softly, “but you indulge me every single time.”
“Someone,” he replied calmly, “has to tolerate your nonsense.”
And then he kissed you. The citrus flavor lingered between you while his hand rested briefly against your jaw, keeping you there for just a second longer than necessary before he finally pulled away.
You blinked at him quietly afterward. And he simply lowered the mask back into place with complete composure.
“…Didn’t you have something else?” he said after a moment. “That’s too sweet.”
You stared at him in disbelief. “That’s your review?”
“That was your objective, was it not?”
80ies, OG Zandik, coca-cola! When Zandik first took you in, he noticed very quickly that you liked flowers and though he never commented much on it, a greenhouse had quietly appeared not long afterward.
At first, it was yours. Then eventually, somehow, it became his too. Now half the plants inside were labeled with small notes in his handwriting, some altered for experiments, others growing under strange conditions only he understood. The greenhouse smelled less like a garden these days and more like a research facility pretending to be one.
Not that you minded. You found him there again that evening, standing beneath the warm glass ceiling while examining one of the glowing flowers near the center table.
“You’re stealing my greenhouse,” you complained lightly while approaching him from behind. “It was never yours exclusively,” he replied without even turning around. “You simply lacked the intellect to use it efficiently.”
You smiled. There he is, you thought to yourself.
The old man carefully adjusted one of the leaves between his fingers before speaking again. “The western section requires watering tomorrow. You’ve been neglecting it.”
“Wow, Im surprised that you noticed.”
“I notice everything.” You moved closer until your shoulder brushed against his arm. He didn’t move away. At this point, Zandik tolerated your clinginess with the same exhausted acceptance one would have toward a persistent cat.
Your gaze drifted toward the flowers surrounding him. “You know,” you murmured softly, “I think you spend more time here than I do now. Perhaps green makes you feel at ease, hm?”
With dodging your last words, he speaks “That is because unlike you, I possess consistency.”
“But you’re also turning my flowers into experiments.”
“They should be honored.”
You laughed quietly under your breath before gently taking his hand and guiding him toward the nearby table set. He looked mildly annoyed the entire time, but he still sat down, and after a second of hesitation, you settled carefully onto his lap sideways, arms slipping loosely around him while resting your head against his shoulder.
The old man let out the deepest sigh imaginable.
“Hopeless girl.”
Yet his hand still rested against your waist automatically. You smiled against his doctor coat that smells like… science!
The cola-flavored gloss still lingered faintly on your lips, and eventually he noticed too. “That scent,” he muttered after a moment. “Artificial. Overly sweet. Also, very unpleasant.”
You looked up at him innocently. “Maybe it tastes good though.”
His eyes narrowed immediately. “You cannot know without trying it, right?”
For a long second, he simply stared at you like he was debating whether or not you were worth the trouble. Then his hand moved slowly to your jaw and despite all the criticism, he kissed you anyway.
The faint cola flavor mixed between you while the greenhouse remained completely silent around you except for the soft hum of lamps overhead.
When he finally pulled away, his expression remained perfectly composed.
“…Still artificial,” he decided calmly. You burst into laughter instantly and though he clicked his tongue in disapproval you still caught the faint amusement hidden beneath it. He was now, too tired to deal with you, but still managing somehow.
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just imagining each and every segment (even the original zandik) playing the piano for you and each having a unique song made for you.
you, his muse; are his inspiration.
i literally wrote this under like 3 hours.. so it will be terrible, i’m really bored so i’m doing this to pass time and because i still need to think about what to do for the pierro one. i haven’t written like this since i was like 15 and was bad at it (im literally still bad at it it’s just so much less cringey) so apologies are due.
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
8: you can’t help but comfort the segment as he is still new to the piano, trying to make a song for you and making many mistakes but he still tries his best to his ability. he would often look up at you with teary eyes even after being comforted, hoping you appreciated his effort
↳
for someone like 8, he had no care in the world of what others thought of him, you on the other hand were an exception.
“a-am i doing okay?” he whispered in hopes he wouldn’t disappoint you, knowing you would never be upset at him.
“you’re doing wonderful my dear, you’ve made so much progress in so little time! i’m so proud of you!” you exclaimed at him while smiling sweetly, in return he showed you his bright smile as he sniffled and wiped away his tears. “i’m happy to hear that.. i will make you a song that shows my love for you!” he beamed with his eyes closed, you could help but smile ear to ear; your adoration for him as clear as a sunny day.
♡ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
18: although he is not new to the piano, he isn’t exactly number one when it comes to skill, above average but there is room for improvement; although you’ll never hear him admit to it
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you sat next to 18 as he played the piano listening to the words that came out of his mouth. “at the akademiya, i never had time for the piano; i was rather occupied with pursuing my own goals..” he recounted as the notes swayed with romantic allure. “for someone who rarely had time for such futile things, you sure do know how to play like a professional.” you mused with a closed smile. “are you mocking me?” he scoffed playfully and you couldn’t help but laugh, even if he sounded annoyed, you could still see the adoration in his eyes.
two people of different backgrounds enjoying the notes being played in the air, as the song he made for you filled up the room with nothing but admiration.
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25: the only time you’ll ever hear 25 play the piano is when there is free time and when he notices you’re feeling down, which unsurprisingly isn’t uncommon due to what tends to go on in the laboratory.
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it was one of days where things just weren’t going your way, which led to 25 basically kidnapping you by throwing you over his shoulder since you refused to move from your bed. “you truly can be a headache at times, are you aware? you should feel honored that i’m taking time out of my day to amuse you.” he muttered as he arrived to the music room
“then why not keep doing that?! you could’ve let me stay in bed, but yet you chose to do this” you huffed as you kept smacking his back and kicking your feet in hopes he would drop you, to no avail he sat you up next to him as he started to play the piano, an unfamiliar tune entering your ears. you perked up, the tune sounded romantic and it was all you could focus on. “i will indulge you this once, so pay attention to this new melody i have created.” he said, and you did exactly what he asked you to do, 100% of your attention was on his fingers, the way he played without hesitance had you in awe. he smirked seeing your face light up, it seems like he accomplished his goal.
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35: the last segment you expected to ever show such trivial emotions, the last to make you a song. he was not one to indulge you, in fact he would laugh at you if you even suggested it, so imagine your surprise when he told you he made you something
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“so are you gonna sit down or what?” he grumbled even after you were in the middle of doing just that, you never understood him and you have a feeling he didn’t understand himself either, but you would rather be struck down by the heavenly principles than say it out loud. “is there a reason you made a new melody?” you mumbled. “i want to see the results of how you will react to this small experiment.. think of it as some minor research.” he gleamed, he would never admit it but he cares for you as much the other segments did. he just showed it in his own way.
he played the piano, he took notice of how your heart rate went down, your shoulders dropped, you leaned closer, your muscles became less tense, your breathing became slower.
the signs that you were relaxing, the sadness within you being forgotten, mission accomplished, he smirked.
you closed your eyes and leaned your head on his shoulders, the tune continuing to play.
the experiment was a success.
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45: a rational man who knew what you liked when it came to music, he knew you were a sucker for the sounds of a piano playing.
he told you he wanted to show a new song he wrote for you. excited, you dragged him to the music room, eager to hear what he wrote
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“come on! i can’t wait to hear what you wrote this time!” you jumped as you led him to the seat in front of the piano, the man chuckled at your eagerness, something he loved about you. “mama prema, your never ending energy will always surprise me.” he chuckled as you blushed at the nickname, his fingers pressing the keys as you watched intently, different from 8, he was skilled and was able to play the piano without looking down, not even a blindfold would make a difference.
you couldn’t help but smile, the man in front of you was the light of your life and would drop anything to attend to you, the way he smiled at you lovingly was something you will never get tired of, it was one of the only times you would see this specific segment without the bird like mask.
you both were caught up in the moment, it felt like it would never end, and you were thinking that you never wanted it to end.
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65: the most quiet of all but very gentle when it came to you, he has been teaching you how to play the piano and wanted to see if you were able to play the song he made for you, so he took you to the music room to try it out… it went better than expected
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“am i doing it right?” you asked as you slowly played the piano, afraid to make mistakes. “you’re doing fine, relax… i’m not gonna get mad if you make a simple mistake.” he chuckled, standing behind you slightly jumped as you felt him place his fingers on top of your, guiding your fingers on the keys. “i recognize these notes.. it’s the love progression, you wrote me a song?” you whispered, your face slowly becoming warmer; the realization that he made this for you and wanted you to hear it by playing it yourself. your breathing hitched and you looked at him in awe. “you made this..for me?” you said as he nodded. “it is not often you get shown appreciation, it is deserved” he mused as he sat down next to you.
both forgetting why they were there originally, chatting idly as time passed by.
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Zandik/85: the original, the one who’s been there since day one, he was a hopeless romantic and it wouldn’t the first or last time he made you a song
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as he played the keys, you swung your legs as you sat on top of the piano. “zandik, the way you play the piano will never fail to amaze me.” your face beaming as he smiled. “these songs are all inspired by you after all, my muse.” he teased.
you hummed in response and focused to the tune of the song, stealing kisses from zandik once in a while,
the music room has become the place of comfort for the both of you, indulging only one person, and that person was you.
all the songs he made for you were embedded with a secret language only the two of you knew. not even the other segments were aware of this.
there were times he would measure your natural heart rhythm and compose to the beat of it with exact precision. he held you in high regard after all. even near death you will always be his priority.