Chapter Text
“Amongst the eleven Harbingers, he is likely the only one who dares to love someone that dearly. I'm unsure whether it's out of arrogance or selfishness.”
“Is Your Majesty against it?”
“My Harbingers are free to do anything in their private time as long as it doesn't hinder my plan. But, just in case, keep an eye on his mate.
.
.
.
Gods are supposed to be born once every century or more. Being able to create one… what are his plans? Not to mention that this milestone of his may have alerted the Celestia.”
[Subject 1’s vitals are… good enough,] Sigma Build reports to the link before letting out a sigh, [alright, it's teetering on the brink of being useless. We shouldn't have rushed to prepare it,] he grumbles, annoyed at the poor quality of the test subject.
[Stop complaining and just report his condition to me,] Prime calmly orders with a flick of his wings as he thoroughly leaves through his filing cabinets, [oh, and you might have to change his diapers.]
Prime can hear Sigma Build sucks in a deep breath from the link, [WHY MEEE!!!!?] he screeches angrily, as expected.
Prime idly pinches his earlobe as he waits until the ringing in his ears comes to pass before he finally says, [Because you're already there,] he boredly points out, [surely you don't find it pleasant having to endure the stench while assessing its status?]
Silence, but Prime knows very well that his youngest self isn't that unreasonable, [Fine,] Sigma Build growls to the link, [fine, I'll do it!] he yells to the link with the conviction of a man who has unwillingly surrendered to his fate, [but you better find the willing research participant that you said will be easy to find!] he vengefully roars.
Prime's fingers still, pausing in their task of placing relevant files into a briefcase.
Right. He did offer to find someone willing to impregnate the trash since it has refused the artificial insemination option. That really shouldn't be too difficult but how should he bring it up? Just snatch a random Fatui soldier and bluntly give the order with some promise of promotion?
Doctor closes his briefcase with a frown before pausing again.
Actually…, there's already one soldier that'll probably fit the task. He said he'll be loyal to his command, right? A little bit of convincing and bribe might be enough to persuade him.
Prime walks to the door, his steps languid and self-assured. He presses a button for the heavy door of his lab to rise and steps into the dimly lit hallway. Prime hums a tune to himself as he steps into the elevator, thinking of ways to coax the fanatic soldier into willing to impregnate his old superior. After all, even if he claimed that he only joined the rebellion for an infiltration, there might still be some sense of camaraderie still.
Well, if that fanatic soldier is actually much more attached to the trash than he claimed, this offer will definitely reveal his true color. Hopefully Pantalone is still with him. He might need to have a witness for this exchange.
. . .
The Northern Gate is deserted by the time Prime gets there but he can easily spot the fanatic soldier and Pantalone still hiding behind a pillar. Not that it's difficult to spot them. Not at all. Not when they're discussing very loudly.
The Regrator with all his yap about how much following the carriage will enlighten the fanatic soldier more about love and the fanatic soldier with all his contemplation of whether he should follow the Regrator’s advice or not blaspheme love should his presence be known by the couple and interrupt the sacred ritual.
Prime slowly sucks in a deep breath.
Oh, no one understands just how much Prime wants to punch the fanatic soldier again for using the word ‘blasphemy’ in such a pathetic regard.
“You, who have claimed yourself as my sword,” Dottore calls out once he gets close enough to the two squabbling fully grown adults, making them both look at him in annoyance before they quickly realize who they're glaring at.
“Ah…,” the fanatic soldier yelps softly before he turns around and respectfully bows at Dottore, “at the ready, My Lord.”
“How good is your stamina in sex?” Dottore –true to his plans– bluntly asks, reaping a choked caw from Pantalone but no one really pays attention to him right now.
The fanatic soldier straightens his back with a slightly dazed look before he notices that the Saint of Love isn't joking around so he places a hand above his heart and dutifully answers, “As a priest, I'm well-versed in spreading any form of lo-”
Pantalone lets out a loud shriek, “NO! DON'T YOU UTTER SUCH A THING!” he shouts with flapping wings and looking as if he's almost foaming in the mouth, “I have finally witnessed a nice change of genre. Don't ruin it with your sordid self!” he continues while pointing an indignant finger at Dottore's face.
Dottore merely glances at Pantalone before he returns his attention back to his business –though deep down he really wants to throw Pantalone off a cliff for screaming so loudly, “Good,” he comments the fanatic soldier's confidence, “for your first mission, I need you to do your best in impregnating my test subject.”
Oh, Pantalone wants to throw up. Impregnating a ‘test subject’? What test subject? A goat?
No…. Considering that it's Dottore's experiment, there's a high chance that the test subject is a human.
Ew, what is this third-rate crude and tasteless porn? Surely Signora's former subordinate won't agree to this, ri-
“By the will of the Saint of Love,” Dmitri serenely says as he reverently kneels before Dottore.
… “I'm leaving,” Pantalone says as he disappointedly turns around to leave, not even finding Dottore's exasperatedly slumping wings funny.
Dottore doesn't even say anything to Pantalone as he makes his way towards the Northern gate. Oh, of course the Doctor doesn't care about anything else but his research. Whatever, Pantalone will just have to stalk Lady Alhaitham to cleanse his mind and eyes from the sordidity he just witnessed. It will be easy to catch up with the carriage. Though Pantalone is not a fighter, he definitely can fly well.
With that, Pantalone takes off his Harbinger coat and folds it in his hands before gracefully taking off to the cold sky.
Meanwhile, Dottore is currently scrutinizing just how truthful the fanatic soldier is, narrowed eyes covered behind a mask, “If that's the case, then follow me,” he says as he leads the fanatic soldier into his underground lab to further assess the fanatic soldier's chance of impregnating his test subject.
[Sigma Build,] Prime calls to the link as he descends once again, [don't forget to measure how deep Subject 1’s womb is.]
[Ugh, Fine!] Sigma Build snaps, [but I'm only going to use an x-ray,]
Prime pauses before raising an eyebrow at Sigma Build –thankfully his colorful expression is hidden beneath his mask, [How else do you think you're going to do it?] he carefully asks.
… [I'm not going to answer that,] Sigma Build evasively answers after a brief silence.
For a moment, the link falls into a productive silence until Alpha Build hesitantly asks, [So we can't have sex with Hayi in the meantime?] then he quickly adds, [I mean, I'm quite sure we've all thought of what will happen if Hayi is sexually starved.]
Prime can feel his back ominously throbs from the question, [... Then I suppose we have to continue fulfilling our duty as his mate,] he decides –definitely not because he fears for his back.
[And what if he gets pregnant before we can even properly assess the possible dangers of his pregnancy?] Sigma Build asks, still a little bit sullen but he's definitely with Prime in preventing Alhaitham from getting sexually berserk.
Prime is quiet for a long time before he finally says, [Then it can't be helped. He needs to have his child,] he lets out a sigh as his wings tiredly slump a little, [time has no favorite. Immortality won't be kind to Hayi, especially since he never asked for it. In the case where Hayi ends up surviving when ‘we’ don't, the child will hopefully prevent the collapse of his mental state.]
The link falls into a contemplative silence. Prime is just way too well-versed in ruining a happy mood. But, then again, that's his duties as the oldest Segment. Paranoia.
[Omega Build,] Prime calls after he manages to calm down his mind from over-reacting, [make sure Hayi understands the risk of conceiving his own child,] he orders.
Omega Build finally joins the conversation with an annoyed groan, [Alright, I get it,] he grumbles, annoyed at having his lovely time with his moonlight being interrupted by such a bleak atmosphere, [but the point is that Hayi will bear our child regardless of anything, right?]
… [Yes,] Prime answers with a huff.
[Then there's nothing new so shut up already,] Omega Build snaps to the link before grumpily looking out the window of the carriage, his wings ruffling irritatedly.
Alhaitham glances at Zandik. His husband has been strangely quiet ever since the carriage has moved. That's strange. Usually he'd start chattering about anything.
The silence that Alhaitham usually welcomes with an open arm suddenly makes him feel self-conscious and nervous about their honeymoon.
“... Zandik,” Alhaitham softly calls, carefully shifting his pairs of wings in the absolutely cramped space.
“Mm?” Zandik merely hums in response, not even bothering to look away from the window.
Alhaitham looks at the back of Zandik's head, not knowing how to react to such a cold response from his most loving husband. Does Zandik notices Alhaitham's dissatisfaction with the carriage and is mad at him? Oh, Alhaitham feels bad now…. But then he quickly notices how Zandik's black feathers are all ruffled in discomfort and a thought suddenly crosses his mind.
… Is his husband having motion sickness?
… “Husband-”
“Yessss~?” Zandik abruptly turns around to face Alhaitham, his mouth spread wide in a goofy grin that makes Alhaitham snorts.
Yeah, there's no way his husband would have motion sickness. He was just sulking because Alhaitham didn't call him ‘husband’. How childish.
Still, Alhaitham asks just in case, “It’s nothing. I just thought you were having motion sickness since you were so quiet.”
… Silence.
Alhaitham glances at Zandik and Zandik awkwardly looks away, “... Come now, how could you even think of me like that,” Zandik amusedly says but the brief awkward pause in his answer is enough to make Alhaitham suspicious.
Unfortunately for Zandik, not long after he says that, the carriage suddenly bumps on a little pebble on the snow, jostling the carriage.
Zandik instantly presses a hand to his mouth and throws his face away from Alhaitham's scrutinizing gaze. His shoulders are tense as he tries to discreetly swallow down the bile threatening to burst forth with all his might. He probably hasn't been the coolest in his moonlight’s eyes but he won't do something as embarrassing as throwing up in front of him. No, that's Sigma Build's thing.
With a lot of effort, Zandik is finally able to swallow down the nausea. Unfortunately, it's such a shame that his moonlight can very well see that he's not well. Oh well, it could be worse.
Zandik suddenly feels Alhaitham's cold fingers gently massaging the back of his neck, “If you have motion sickness, why would you suggest that we ride a carriage?” Alhaitham asks, sounding so doting and fond that Zandik melts to his touch.
Zandik still doesn't show his face at Alhaitham though, “Mainly for mobility but it's also to ensure that you won't get too cold,” he answers, wings shifting shyly as he enjoys Alhaitham massage, “after all, I tried my best to find a design to accommodate your pairs of wings but I know it isn't good at all.”
Alhaitham's massaging fingers pause and he quickly presses his face to Zandik's arm so that he can hide his bashful expression, “What nonsense,” he softly mutters, a smile bleeding into his voice, “this is a great design to be done with that timeframe.”
Zandik playfully lets out an offended gasp before twisting his body, grunting a little caw when Alhaitham suddenly lunges forward to press his face to his chest though he pays it no mind –he likes it– and simply wraps his arms around his moonlight's waist and pulls him closer, “Please don't say that,” he huffs as he pokes at Alhaitham's exposed skin, “I have standards for my creation and this invitation to frostbite definitely does not qualify,” he sulks, now finding consolation in caressing the area between Alhaitham's wings, “though you have a habit for dressing inappropriately for the weather. I'm quite sure that you genuinely feel cold at times,” Zandik continues, now finding amusement in watching Alhaitham's wings shiver from his soft touches.
Alhaitham blindly smacks Zandik's chest as a silent request for him to stop teasing his back, still not pulling his face away from Zandik's chest, before he confesses once Zandik does stop, “It's scientifically recorded that when Avians become mated with each other, their rational becomes clouded with instincts. Dressing like that was my self defense against those instincts,” he mutters as he finally pulls away from Zandik's chest, “if I get sick because of the cold due to my attire that any potential mates never seem to care enough to worry over, then I should stop the relationship. Although Sumeru isn't as cold as in Snezhnaya, it certainly still worked,” he quietly explains, not daring to look at Zandik's reaction, before he lets out a cynical chuckle, “actually, I sometimes find it ironic that out of all the potential mates I went through, you were the only one who cared about it.”
Silence falls into the carriage. Alhaitham nervously smiles to himself as he looks down at his twiddling thumbs. He… really doesn't dare to check on his husband's expression. Telling that to Zandik must've been insulting and might even be a little bit hurtful to him.
Zandik's hands suddenly shoot out to grab Alhaitham's shoulders and twist him towards him, “What do you mean ‘ironic’?” he offendedly asks but still maintains the volume of his voice, “Ahh! Of course I'm different from your exes, moonlight. I'm fated to become your lifelong mate. Of course I'm better than them. How dare you expect that I'll be worse than those pathetic Avians that literally had to team up to satis- Why are you laughing?!”
Ah, Alhaitham really can't help it. This is the cutest rant he has ever heard. Oh, Zandik really is the sweetest, huh?
“Moonlighttttt~” Zandik whines annoyedly as Alhaitham continues to laugh –which only makes Alhaitham laugh harder, “stop laughing! I'm mad at y-”
Alhaitham kisses Zandik.
A full press of their lips without any tongue. A sweet kiss that kind of feels like the intention is to shut him up –considering that Alhaitham is firmly cupping Zandik’s cheeks. But… Zandik genuinely finds this kiss almost innocent, especially since he can see that his moonlight is closing his eyes and can sense that his moonlight is smiling into the kiss.
Alhaitham pulls back from the kiss after a while with a cheerful chirp and a happy flutter of his wings, “You're so cute, husband,” Alhaitham coos with a big grin, hands now cupping Zandik's cheeks more prominently as if he's pinching fluffy doughs.
Zandik instantly feels his cheeks heating up, “You're cheating,” he vehemently hisses though he doesn't pull back from Alhaitham's hands even as his face reddens deeper.
“No, I'm not~” Alhaitham teasingly says with a sweet tilt of his head.
… Okay, Zandik accepts his defeat.
Outside of the carriage, Alexei watches the road with dead eyes. He really doesn't want to be His Lordship's chauffeur for their honeymoon. Alas, the request was made and Alexei values his life too much to care.
… By the way, it's very cold outside.