mika25052001
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Feofan and Zandik play a secret game during a night out at the theater.
Bookmarked by mika25052001
26 Aug 2026
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Pantalone opens the drawer again and stares at the glove. It's a call for help. Undeniably.
Pantalone didn't know that Dottore is someone capable of asking for help. He never has, in all the years they've known each other. Dottore doesn't ask, he demands. Requests—if he's feeling particularly nice. But he never begs. Never says please. Never even admits that he needs anyone or anything. And how could he?
People like them don't need others to reach their goals. They use others.Or,
Segment Eight is withering away as a consequence of his own existence. Pantalone refuses to enable Omega this time.Bookmarked by mika25052001
20 Aug 2026
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It takes one faulty investment to ruin someone’s life, four weeks of planning to lure someone into a trap, and thirty-seven kicks to the stomach for pain to stop registering.
That’s a ten on Feofan’s pain scale, apparently. Under his mother’s calloused hands, he was certain he found the upper limit years ago, but pain—he’s come to learn—is a little like interest; it has a habit of compounding.
The progression of their relationship over 400 years.
Bookmarked by mika25052001
17 Aug 2026
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“You are,” he found himself almost silly to suggest it, “…ill.”
25 appeared as if he wanted to douse himself in the nearest acid vat. Or Pantalone. “Unfortunately.” How very mortal of him.
Almost two centuries after their creation, the segments find out that they can, in fact, fall ill.
In tending to them, Pantalone unwittingly finds himself reminded of the first and last person he had ever taken care of.Bookmarked by mika25052001
17 Aug 2026
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Dottore is a man who still clings to his origins. Pantalone would rather not.
Or, Dottore and Pantalone find themselves in Liyue Harbor during Lantern Rite.
Bookmarked by mika25052001
14 Aug 2026