"You were merely wishing for the end of pain, the monster said. Your own pain. An end to how it isolated you. It is the most human wish of all." (A Monster Calls - Patrick Ness)
Thinking about just Pantalone and Dottore's relationship on paper. These bitches gay as hell.
They're scorned outcasts of society (gay) with an age gap (gay) who entered a "partnership" (gay) which required them to be in close communication and proximity, maybe even living together (gay) who never married (gay) and who remained together into their old age until one of them died (extremely gay) and then the man he left behind used legal loopholes they set up before his death to claim his assets execute his final will (gay)
Happy pride month to these two close friends in particular
I always hated that take and how much it resonated with people cuz like…cakes aren't always colourful and bright and kidcore.
This isn't mentioned in the movies, but implied in the books, that Peeta 100% has made realistic looking cakes before, and he also just paints in general.
Yes what they show for him in the movies while dying is unrealistic, but that's also not even close to how he was described looking in the books (covered in mud, basically a part of the riverbed).
As someone who loves Sandrone I'm genuinely so disappointed in her playable Design. What is that???? Give me back her Npc Design!! Like genuinely, it was so perfect. I actually thought about C6R5ing her as my first ever character, but now I'll just get her once and see how much I like her…
I also really hope that, seeing how Citlali turned from temperamentful to Tsundere in like one month, Sandrone's voicelines stay true to her character. I can't take this anymore. Why do they always do shit like that to my favs.
I'm just glad that Chasca still has her little anger issues without them taking over her entire character.
If you had told me 2 years ago that dottolone not only interacted in canon but were so gay they were giving haikaveh a run for their money I would have NOT believed you
I feel like Pantalone is the only one who received Dottore's proper doctor treatment because his other patients are his test subjects while with Pantalone, Dottore actually takes good care of his health and well-being.
Inspired by the recent story direction and the feeling of “all good things come to an end” — song by Nelly Furtado.
Keeping details vague to avoid heavy spoilers! but leaning into grief, endings, and the strange shape of love between Dottore, Pantalone, and gn!Reader.
The room was quiet. That was the first thing you noticed. There was no crackling fireplace in Pantalone’s estate. No snow gathering beyond the windows of Snezhnaya. Just untouched tea growing cold on the table.
Dottore had always filled rooms without trying. Not with warmth and laughter but with movement. Papers shifting while fingers tapped against tabletops. The sound of gloves being adjusted. A low hum while his mind worked faster than anyone else's.
Just the quiet because silence felt wrong around him. Around them.
And now?
You stared at your hands. Across from you, Pantalone stared out of the window. He still looked composed, perfectly dressed and poised. Anyone else would think nothing had changed. But you knew him. You knew the one hand rested against the armrest because the other remained curled tightly in his lap way too still, too empty, like he forced them into his usual position.
Nothing.
"...You should sleep," you said quietly, and Pantalone smiled. You hated that smile when it was directed to you. It was beautiful and polished and false.
"And leave you alone?" he asked, but you didn't answer. Because both of you knew what the truth was. You weren't alone, and that was the problem. Everything still felt crowded with him.
Your eyes kept expecting to see a tall figure leaning against a doorway, amused at your misery. You kept expecting gloved fingers brushing your shoulder as he passed. Expecting his voice:"You're both making rather dramatic expressions."
But grief was cruel. It left ghosts where people should be. Pantalone exhaled softly and then moved towards you. He sat beside you without speaking and took your hand. His grip was careful because he thought you would break, and he thought he might then, too.
For a while, neither of you spoke. Snow started falling outside now. First lightly but quickly, there were heavy snowflakes, the ones that get so big because a few would stick together. And then Pantalone laughed once a tiny, bitter sound. "...How irritating." He said, and you turned toward him.
"He once told me that attachment was simply another form of investment." His eyes remained fixed ahead. "That humans only stayed because they expected returns." His thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly. "I informed him he was an idiot."
"...Mm."
"He argued for twenty minutes."
"...Sounds like him." A tiny smile pulled at your mouth.
Pantalone noticed. Of course he did.
"He hated when we held hands during meetings."
You blinked. "What?"
"He claimed it was distracting." Pantalone's expression softened slightly. "Then, five minutes later, he'd wedge himself between us and take one hand for himself."
You stared. "...He did do that."
"He did." Pantalone nodded.
Silence again. Then quieter: "He always did dislike being left out."
Something in your chest twisted painfully. Because suddenly you remembered it too clearly—
Long fingers slip between yours and a hand resting at your lower back. Suggestive touches beneath tables just to watch your expression change. Dottore looked at both of you like he had no idea what to do with affection, but refusing to let go once he'd learned.
Flames to dust.
Lovers to friends.
Why do all good things come to an end?
Your eyes burned, and before you could look away, Pantalone pulled you into him. Desperately while, you pressed your face into his shoulder. For the first time that evening, his composure finally cracked but just a little. "...I dislike this," he whispered.
This: The absence. The ending. The grief.
You wrapped your arms around him tighter, and for a moment, for one impossible moment, you could almost imagine another pair of arms around both of you. Long fingers curling possessively around your waists. A quiet voice against your ear:"What a pathetic sight." Followed by softer words no one else would have heard: "Don't let go."
You have complete awareness of who Dottore was and that didn't disappear just because he is gone. Though he was someone difficult to love.
“He was a piece of shit.” The words left your mouth without warning and thought. Pantalone slowly raised his head in silence to look at you. Then there was a soft huff of laughter. It's not a real laugh. Just like he was surprised.
“You know,” he said carefully, “most people would consider that a rather terrible thing to say about someone after they're gone.”
You stared at the cold tea cups.
“He was.” you stated again
Pantalone didn't respond because what argument was there? Dottore was arrogant, cruel, and insufferable. He started arguments because he was bored. Looked at social conventions like they were little diseases. Had a habit of staring at people just long enough to make them uncomfortable before walking away like he'd won something. He stole your blankets and denied doing so, just for him to do it again the next night. He'd say absurd things with a completely serious expression just to watch your reaction. He would disappear into work for days and emerge looking like sleep had become a personal enemy. He was—
Your throat tightened. "...He was a piece of shit." Pantalone looked down at both of your hands. His ring still sat there, and so did yours, still catching the diming sunlight from outside. The sun disappeared behind the cloudy sky now.
"...Yes," he said quietly. A long pause. Then his fingers curled tighter around yours. "But to the both of us..." His voice lowered slightly. "He was also a bit more than that."
Something in your chest cracked because suddenly you remembered Dottore slumped lazily across both of you during late nights, claiming he wasn't tired while actively falling asleep. Remembered him pulling your hand absentmindedly into his while reading. Remembered the way he'd stand just slightly too close, like distance had become an inconvenience once he decided someone belonged beside him. Not in a kind way. But his own strange version of it.
You laughed weakly, and immediately your eyes burned. "...I hate him." You said. Pantalone shifted closer and muttered into your hair:"I know."
"I really hate him."
"I know."
You buried your face into his shoulder again and for a moment, neither of you moved. And somewhere in the unbearable silence left behind, you could almost hear an annoyed voice: "You are both being dramatic."
You smiled despite yourself because even now you knew exactly what he'd say.
I have so many thoughts about the new Archon Quest but mainly I'm just excited. (Spoilers for Luna VII/6.6)
The fact that they teased that quest three years ago but it turned out to be so much gayer than I could've possibly imagined, incredible work there.
Also I'm just so glad that those two dorks get to be evil maniacs, no niceties or redemptions in sight <3
That being said, as a Pantalone cosplayer, seeing his entire fit like that for the first time…it's gonna be so painful to recreate, but I will not bend. I will not be beat by the machine produced 2d cosplays nor will I bend and stick to the trailer design. Not like I'm throwing my old cosplay out the window, I'll still keep it, it was a whole years work after all, but man. And then they give him two separate cloaks with the same insides, are you fucking kidding me.
But also yayy, we know Pantalones name!! It does kinda sound like someone recently rewatched the LotR trilogy, but I'll take it.
Also so fucking excited for all the new shippers and fans coming in and the old ones' flames being rekindled, give me fanart!! Give me edits!! Give me comics!!
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