#pantalone hcs

[capriciousleo]

Hello everyone I return with a random hc of mine that is:

Pantalone does not particularly want kids. They do not invoke a mellow feeling inside of him, they do not make a genuine smile appear on his face, they do not warm his heart. HOWEVER, he will agree to have a kid or two only for the role of successors to his business, his empire. If his s/o asks him to have kids together, he will outright decline it. But, if the s/o formulates it as having successors to his empire, he might consider it 😌

[cyxnidx]

DADDY'S GIRL !

characters: dad!pantalone & dad!wriothesley

genre: hcs + imagines

a/n: i love wrio's design sb omgomgomg. also pls ignore how janky wrio's icon looks compared to pantalones :(

Pantalone

dad!pantalone, who can't help himself but laugh when his little girl tries to wear his glasses.

"why, look at you." pantalone coo's, finger gently tickling his two year olds stomach while she tries to fit his seemingly oversized glasses onto her small framed face. "just like daddy, aren't you?"

dad!pantalone, who's ever so gentle with his little girl.

dad!pantalone, who buys his little one everything she could ever want.

walking beside pantalone, his little girl wobbles slightly from her thick bubble coat keeping her warm in the harsh winter. they pass a store, and the small girl stops for a moment, noticing a toy through the glass. "daddy?" she calls, pointing at the glass as she waits for her father to crouch down, matching her eyesight. "can i have one?" she asks sweetly, eyes going wide. pantalone smiles, "of course, darling."

dad!pantalone, who lets his teenage girl do his nails and makeup.

dad!pantalone, who laughs to see himself reflected in his teenage girl's personality.

dad!pantalone, who compares his girls baby pictures to her now, smiling when he notices she hasn't changed a bit.

walking down the corridors of his home, pantalone smiled as he saw picture frame after picture frame of his little girl, years seemingly passing in a flash. though, with closer observation, he notices her face hasn't changed a bit - perhaps a newer birth mark, but nothing else. "dad?" he hears her voice. "what're you doing?" she questions. pantalone cocks his head slightly, smiling. "nothing - you just look the exact same in the face." he tells her, lightly tapping her nose in a playful manner.

Wriothesley

dad!wrio, who loves to help his toddler play with her little toys.

"daddy." he hears his little girl call for him, pulling at his index finger for his attention. wrio looks down, noticing her pointing at her dolls and doll house spread across the living room floor, pieces no longer where they were supposed to be. "help me, please." she asks politely.

dad!wrio, who adores it when his little girl curls into a ball in his arms late one night while watching a movie.

eating a handful of popcorn, wrio almost doesn't notice his little girl move the bowl to the table and instead places herself into his arms, face buried into his chest. wriothesley smiles softly, tightening his grasp around her smaller body as he continues to watch his movie.

dad!wrio, who smiles when his teenage girl still comes to him for help.

dad!wrio, who always lets his teenager do his hair whenever she deems fit.

dad!wrio, who always tries his best to model the man he hopes his little girl will fall for.

driving his teenager to her father-daughter dance, wriothesley pulls into the parking lot. "don't touch it." wriothesley tells his teenager, stopping her from touching the car door handle. "dad.." she groans before watching him get out of the car, walking to the other side and opening the door for her. "c'mon, let's go." he says, hand out to help her out.

dad!wrio, who feels his heart melt hearing his possessive toddler yell 'my daddy' for the hundredth time.

[fishsouper]

me whenever i relate to a character: yeahh sorry this ones trans. yeah i dont make the rules. sorry.

[love-marimo]

Sway Me More

ー dancing hcs of various genshin men

Diluc, Zhongli, Ayato, Xiao, Albedo, Pantalone, Dainsleif

Waltz. They live for the romance in the way your bodies sway gently to such music filled with love. They think that slow dances like this allow them to really take all of you in the most romantic, whimsical and elegant way possible. They love the way you look up at them and turn away, a bashful look on your face. And the best part? When they twirl you around. They like making you feel like a princess regardless of your gender.

Alhaitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Cyno

Sumerian Folk Dance. It's a friendship agreement between the four of them. Alhaitham doesn't dance unless there's you in it. As for the rest, they love indulging in their own cultures, and they (especially Kaveh and Cyno) will drag you into it. They want you to experience what it's like being a part of such a lovely region. They want to feel you enjoying their culture. Sumerian dances make them feel alive, but it becomes even better when you dance with them. You become alive, together.

Childe, Kaeya, Heizou, Aether, Kazuha

Ballroom. Ah, yes. It's the perfect blend of sweetness and liveliness. They love the sultriness of it. If you can't keep up with the pace, they'll do their best to dance with you. So you end up getting twirled around and getting swept off your feet. They can't help it, they just badly love flirting with you and making you flustered. And what if you're a great dancer? It becomes a story of who falls first (They do, and they fall hard for you).

Itto, Venti

Swing. These two are lovers of jazz and chaos. They like losing themselves in the moment with you. With each dance, they want you to feel like the world around you is a blur. They want you to feel like it's just you two in it. Itto teaches you all the grooves, and you end up having random dances each time you see one another. Venti likes dancing with you better when he's had a drink or two. It helps him get in the mood. But you have to watch them both before they get too rowdy.

Wanderer

He thinks dancing is pointless. He'd rather kiss you or take you somewhere nice as a date. But if you push his buttons and ease him into it, he'll pick up something or two. Maybe a little bit of swing or waltz. But honestly, you have to initiate it. Once you get him in the mood, he'll have this small smile on his face ー almost as if he feels free while dancing with you.

ー Lolita

[anyperchan]

What honkai star rail/genshin impact character fear the most in a relationship☆

Included: dottore, Pantalone, gallagher, jing yuan and tartaglia

SFW | sorry if i kinda mischaracterized them | don't mind the mistakes, English is not my native language

Dottore who's biggest fear is that you may see him as a monster actually instead of a human with valid feelings

Pantalone who feels scared that you may just love him because of his money and don't care about him as a person

Gallagher who worries that you don't find his dad bod attractive and his carefree/lazy appearance

Jing yuan who feels uncomfy by the thought that he doesn't spend enough time with you because of his busy schedule

Tartaglia who worries that you'll think he's not strong enough and you might leave him for a stronger person than him

[bloodblanks]

the cadence within [il dottore x reader] — prologue.

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through their fourth and fifth ribs.  But few men would allow you to just skewer them like that, and Dottore was no exception. So you took the classic route. No, it wasn’t through his stomach; it was through sheer force of charisma alone.  However, charisma is shaped like a double edged blade. Pantalone sent you to Dottore’s lab like a flying dagger, and not until it was too late did either of you realize you’d been lodged in his chest. 

co-written with noodsies, however, they’re shy and wish to stay anonymous! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mature content, including explicit sexual acts, violence, dottore himself, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

“Check,” you whispered.

Queen to C6 check, in response to white’s bishop checking on F3. Your D7 pawn guarded your queen, but your bishop was stuck in B8 while his king was vulnerable on A6. His only other piece was a knight on A4.

Did he blunder?

After placing down the chess piece, you glanced back towards him, your eyes searching his face for any readable signs or expressions. There were none, save for the hint of amusement that remained eternally etched into both his features and demeanour.

You mentally sighed. Dottore was as indecipherable as ever, leaving you confused about what to do with the nagging itch that tugged at your heart. You tried to push it aside, to dig a hole and bury the feeling six feet underground where it was never to resurface again, but you found yourself unable to. Instead, you found yourself caving into that emotion, the tension thickening the very air that now felt suffocating to breathe in, each of Dottore’s answers only leaving you with more questions to ask—none of which you should’ve paid any mind to, yet you still couldn't resist, barely holding yourself back from asking the one thing you really wanted to know.

You coughed softly, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“My turn,” you tried to steady your voice and sound as confident as possible, pushing past the dryness in your mouth. “Question nineteen, are you going to continue with your plan?”

It shouldn’t even matter. If you were being rational, you wouldn’t have bothered to ask that; whether or not he planned to continue should not affect your judgement in any way. He had done enough wrong as it is, committed far more crimes than could be excused or remotely justified.

Still, you couldn’t help but succumb to your own weakness, the question leaving your lips alongside a silent prayer that you hadn’t exposed your intentions—be it the one to put an end to him, or the far worse one, the one to give up on your original task. The task you should adhere to, despite your traitorous feelings wanting to get in the way. But you were not strong enough.

Dottore’s silence permitted you to keep ruminating over the same thoughts that had ceaselessly plagued you each time you faced him, the same thoughts that had insidiously grown in intensity throughout your interactions, leaving you to realize far too late that at some point, your actions towards him became genuine.

“Perhaps,” Dottore responded at last. You fought to keep your face neutral, trying your best to mask your disappointment at his answer. As much as you had wanted to, you were unable to deny that you had indeed wanted him to say ‘no.’

As shameful as it was, you pushed for a different answer.

“You’re supposed to answer yes or no,” you stated, keeping your tone light and indifferent.

How ludicrous, you thought. Your job was to pretend to be interested in him, yet here you were, desperately trying to act like you weren’t.

“Unfortunately, Y/N, I can’t do that,” Dottore replied. “The answer is dependent on certain variables.”

“Like what?”

“That’s not a yes or no question.” His face did not betray anything, yet you could hear the smirk in his voice, evident in the satisfaction he spoke with.

“But—”

“—My turn,” Dottore interrupted, and though you wanted to protest, you had to maintain an air of calmness, leaning back in your seat as you waited for him to speak.

“Question nineteen,” Dottore drew out each syllable with emphasis, “you are planning to kill me, aren’t you?”

His sentence caused you to freeze, a chill running down each ridge of your spine as you shivered, goosebumps breaking out over the surface of your skin, your hair standing on end as you stared at him, motionless, eyes wide.

That wasn’t a yes or no question. He knew. Dottore knew.

You didn’t need to see yourself to know that blood had drained from your face. There was no need for you to say anything; even if he hadn’t already known, your expression alone would be enough to confirm that everything he just said was true.

“Go on. Why don’t you answer me?” His voice was sharp enough to cut through the pounding of your heart, the pulsating of the organ reverberating in your eardrums being the only sound to muffle the deafening silence of the room.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Dottore continued. Though the syllables reached you, your mind struggled to process the meaning behind them. “Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

Dottore scoffed, indignant.

“I find it rather insulting that you think so lowly of me.”

“N-no,” you scrambled to find the right words. “I don’t—”

“—Is that so?” he said, cutting you off while clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. “Do you have a more plausible explanation for that gun strapped to your thigh, then?”

Your heart sank, his words the anchor that plunged it into the bottomless pit in your stomach. It felt like the life was drained from your body, rendering it an immobile marionette whose strings dangled from the tips of Dottore’s slender fingers. As if his words were coated in a paralyzing agent, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak further or move an inch. The only reminder that you were still alive was the harrowing thump of your pulse, each beat accelerating faster than the last.

How did he know?

For a split second you wondered if you’d been betrayed, but that was impossible. You had premeditated the perfect plan, meticulously memorized every step, and followed through with flawless execution.

With clandestine sleight, you acquired the perfect trump card—a gun loaded with bullets meant to destroy both visions and delusions. It was exactly what you needed to put an end to him, to put an end to this madness and absurdity. You’d be done with this once and for all. You’d have your old life back; exactly as it was before.

So how?

And what was more pressing than how, was the question of just what Dottore was planning to do with this knowledge. The urgency that question posed was unmatched by anything else, the answer pertaining to whether you would live or die.

You couldn’t help but wince, unable to conceal your expressions any longer. Dottore had seen through it all, seen through all your plans. You were dead, and you could only hope that your death would not be as unpleasant as some of the others by his hand. You knew what he was capable of, and you knew he was capable of far worse.

“I didn’t think so.” Dottore’s words were firm. Unwavering. And in those very seconds you were forced to accept the reality that you were going to die. This was the end.

“Go ahead,” Dottore said, slowly holding out his hands with both palms facing you. “Shoot me.”

What?

“I won’t stop you,” he finished his sentence. You were still gaping at him, but he was gazing back straight into your eyes, unflinching.

“Is this a joke?” you breathed, unable to comprehend what was just said to you.

“Is that your final question?” Dottore returned, his words somehow snapping you out of your daze and paralysis for a split second. You instinctively reacted by reaching to your thigh, pulling out the gun that you had prepared for this very moment and aiming it directly at him.

You tried to still the tremble of your hands as your index finger hooked onto the trigger, tensing it frozen so it wouldn’t pull.

A moment went by.

“Is that all?” Maybe you were imagining things. You had to be, but you couldn’t help but feel his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

Just what was he looking for? Could it be the same thing you sought?

“Allow me my final question, then.”

You couldn’t help but anticipate, that minuscule flame of hope, that lingering spark that refused to be snuffed out, flaring back to life.

“Sure.” Your voice was low, but you knew that he had heard you, nonetheless.

“Question...” Each second felt like it had been split up into millions, leaving you to experience time a microsecond at once. You were breathing heavily, your blood pulsating in your ears and adrenaline rushing through your veins. “...Twenty.”

“There is something stopping you, isn’t there?” 

next chapter -> any interactions are appreciated (´･ω･`) thank you very much for supporting my work! ♡

[astermagne-but-genshin]

Hi all, I have a migraine and am dizzy, so this wonderful idea came to mind.

Harbinger Migraine Hcs

Note, when I say ‘you’ it’s referring to anyone who’s in their vicinity , whether it be another harbinger, random person in Teyvat, your character or self, etc.

Dottore

Too little coffee. Too much coffee. The lights are too bright. Whatever the reason he will say, he will carry on his work like it’s nothing.

He will suffer in silence. Unless you’re in the vicinity, then he will blame it on you. He doesn’t care who you are, whether an assistant, a squirrel, or Pierro : you are now the subject of his ire.

Is he just grumpy? Or is it actually a headache..

There is no change in his facial expressions or demeanor.

Offer him snacks? “Get out of my lab”.

There is no such thing as self care. No water, no naps, no nothing. He has always toughed it out, he can and will do it again. Will only take an ibuprofen if it’s within reach. However if it’s his work area, chances of painkillers being around are pretty unlikely.

Pantalone

Closed eyes are a virtue, it helps.

Drink water! Sip sip sip

Has incense burning to help ease the migraine.

Soft music in the background 😌

He might bring it up in a conversation. He might want you to bring it up in a conversation. “Oh , you noticed ✨”

Oh he loves the attention you might give him. Please, do give him pillows, get well wishes, and an extra pitcher of fresh water. Get him flowers.

Depending on who you are, he will either lean against you if you offer cuddles , or, bite. (He is fast. You will not see it coming. You will not see it happening. You are now wounded and warned.)

He will take naps. He will tell his workers /secretaries to momentarily take up his work for him, cancel appointments if it’s really bad. (If someone poisoned him or something.) Otherwise, business is business.

Only the comfiest of seats.

Will probably take a spa day when this is over.

Columbina

Sleepyyyyy

More than usual

When she gets a pang of pain while walking, she will either stop and stare into the void for a few seconds before continuing, or dramatically fall and let the floor be her resting spot for a few minutes. Nap time. Latter usually when no one is around.

Snacks! Oh she will raid the kitchen. I’m kidding, her room has tons t o n s of emergency snacks. Cookies, chips, brownies, cake, a wide arrangement of vegetables and fruits, bread. But in times where a migraine strikes, she prefers any food with a good crunch

Hums /sings less :<

Massages are very welcome. Will ask you to carry her. She has wings? So? You have arms.

Will either ,randomly, enjoy music when it is playing , or become biblically accurate to the musicians .

What’s water?

[madamemachikonew]

Any time I think of Pantalone yapping I imagine him sounding like an Animal Crossing creature.

[artful-aries]

Hi! :) You're welcome, I like how you HCs are so thoughtful and fit the characters! The flirting one was especially good! Oh, do you have any Pantalone asks waiting in your inbox or planned posts that include him? If not, could you do a "How They Flirt With You" and/or "General SFW/NSFW" heandcanons for him please? I really liked the posts you did for these with the other characters, so I'd love to see your take on it with him! :) If you'd like to btw, no pressure if you feel like writing other stuff at the moment!

FINALLY GOT AROUND TO THIS ONE SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT please enjoy :3

Minors, if you read the NSFW stuff anyway that’s on you (¬_¬)

Pantalone: General Dating Headcanons (SFW/NSFW)

SFW:

Some call him the rizzler He is very good at giving you attention and making you feel loved. He’s not exactly sappy or hopelessly romantic with it, but his affection has more of a sultry tone to it. It’s like he views it as a competition, making sure that you see that he is the only one who can love you like you need to be loved

A lot of it stems from his sense of pride; he has to be the best in all of his endeavors, including being a lover

Anytime he goes anywhere, so long as it isn’t dangerous, Pantalone is going to have you practically attached to his hip. The man likes demonstrating his wealth, and you are no exception to this. If anything, you’re his most prized possession, and he’ll be damned if he’s just going to hide you away and not show you off

That being said, he is going to buy you immaculate outfits for you to wear whenever you two go out together. He’s not going to force you to wear something you don’t want to, but his pride swells if you greet him in that outfit he bought for you

This naturally makes him pretty possessive of you, but not in the violent jealousy type of way. He’s the type to tighten his grip around your waist, or altogether pull you away to have some words with you, especially if you’re trying to make him jealous. Pantalone won’t let that slide, so he’ll take the time to remind you that you’re his, and that no one can measure up to him

Aside from when you’re making him jealous, he likes a moderate amount of PDA; he’s not going to full on make out with you while walking down the street, but he makes sure to be touching you in some form or fashion. His go to is to wrap his arm loosely around your waist or shoulders as you two walk together

Dating him will mean that you get anything your heart desires; expensive jewelry? It’s already on your dresser before you can even ask. Exquisite food? Pantalone will take time out of his busy schedule to take you to the best restaurants in Teyvat. He’ll let you order the entire menu if you asked, even though he knows there’s no way you can finish everything

He just loves to spoil you, and why shouldn’t he? You’re precious to him, and it wouldn’t make sense to not share his vast wealth with you

His vice is that he can get a little too possessive sometimes, to the point he will overstep and make decisions for you. When you express your displeasure he will learn to back off a bit. He does realize that he can’t just treat you like an extension of his belongings, but he does it occasionally out of habit, which he makes up for with apology gifts and affection

All in all, he’s a pretty considerate lover, especially since spoiling you also happens to boost his own ego. Yet somehow Pantalone never manages to be grating with this behavior, he skirts the line between complete confidence and total arrogance

NSFW:

Pantalone is confident in all endeavors, and that does not end in the bedroom

For your first time together he will be gentle, but it’s mostly because he’s taking the time to learn exactly what makes you quiver, moan, and scream in pleasure

After the first time, you’re in for a wild ride. He can get down and dirty with the best of them. Spanking, choking, degradation, pretty much anything is fair game so long as you express interest and he plays the dominant role.

He will always have to be in control; this isn’t to say he won’t let you treat him by sucking him off or riding him however you want, but ultimately the power will be in his hands. He’s just kind enough to let you have your fun every once in a while, but tease him too much and he’s wresting the control from you before you can even blink

Needless to say, he makes sure to establish a safe word just in case he ever gets too into the role. He likes to mix pain and pleasure, but it’s never his intention to cross the line

He’s not the most flexible guy out there, but he makes up for that by being able to easily manhandle you and fold you up like a slut to get the best position possible. Since he doesn’t have a vision, he takes pride in being physically strong

His favorite position is having you bent over his desk as he absolutely rails you. Sometimes when he’s feeling particularly mischievous, he’ll have you try to read out reports for him as he pounds into you, finding a way to punish you every time you mess up reading. He just likes the excuse to punish you during the act since on the whole you’re usually pretty compliant with his wishes

Without fail, Pantalone will always leave a hickey on your neck, just a little bit below your jawline. It’s just one, as he thinks too many would be a little tacky, but it’s almost like it’s his calling card, his own personal seal to mark you as one of his possessions

It’s not the only hickey he will leave on your body though, it’s just the only visible one. It turns him on to know that just underneath your clothes is the evidence of how he completely ravaged you, and it’s a sight for his eyes and his alone

Something that makes Pantalone go absolutely feral is whenever you touch his thigh or sit in his lap. The intimacy of the act alone is enough to send his mind straight to the gutter, and he’ll be even more eager if you sweetly bat your eyelashes at him while doing so

Like with everything else, if he’s not the best then he isn’t satisfied. Though he loves being dominant and acting like he only cares about his own pleasure, he’s not going to stop until he has you in a complete mess. Even when you’re begging for a break because you’re so overstimulated, he’s not going to stop. If you didn’t like it, then you’d be using your safe word, wouldn’t you?

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ CG! Pantalone headcanons ໒ ˚⁎

•Leveraging his wealth, Pantalone spares no expense in making sure you have everything you need. From toys to comfort items and special foods, he ensures you are well provided for

hiii could you do cg pantalone hcs please!

If you're sick while age regressing :

•Pantalone is exceptionally attentive when you're sick. He makes sure you stay in bed, surrounded by soft blankets and plush toys for comfort

•He brings you warm soups, herbal teas, and any medicine you need, ensuring you're well taken care of

•Pantalone stays by your side, reading stories and gently stroking your hair until you fall asleep

•He would call you : little one, sweetheart, sugar, love or precious

•Pantalone maintains a calm and patient demeanor, which is reassuring for you. He understands that this is a time when you need extra care and attention, and he provides it without hesitation !

•Creating a Safe Environment : Dada Pantalone sets up a safe and comfortable environment where you feel secure. This includes a cozy room with soft blankets, plush toys, and a calming atmosphere

•Understanding the importance of routine, Pantalone establishes a consistent schedule. This might helps you feel more secure and know what to expect, reducing anxiety

If you are being bratty in little space :

•If you start acting bratty and not respecting the rules, Pantalone remains patient but firm. He calmly explains why certain rules are important and helps you understand the consequences of your actions

•Pantalone may give you some quiet time to reflect, followed by a gentle conversation to resolve the issue and reinforce positive behavior. He ensures you know he cares, even when setting boundaries

•When you feel scared or upset, Pantalone is quick to offer comfort. He might hold you, hum a lullaby, or simply stay by your side until you feel better

•Pantalone is an attentive listener, encouraging you to express your feelings and thoughts. He never dismisses your emotions, no matter how trivial they might seem

•He engages you in interactive activities such as puzzles, drawing, or simple games. Pantalone is patient and encouraging, always ready to praise your efforts and accomplishments

•Despite his busy schedule, Pantalone makes time to spend with you personally

•Recognizing the importance of education, Pantalone incorporates learning into your activities in a fun and engaging way. This could be through storytelling with moral lessons or simple educational games

If you're being sad while age regressing :

•When you're feeling sad, Pantalone is quick to notice. He offers a comforting hug and listens attentively as you express your feelings

•Pantalone might take you for a gentle walk or sit with you in a cozy corner, engaging in calming activities like drawing or listening to soothing music to cheer you up. His presence is always reassuring, and he uses his calm voice to help lift your spirits

[fatuismooches]

It’s 3 AM rn and I can’t sleep, hoping if i get these brain worms out i finally can 😭

any whoo, this relates to Pantalone n my brain worms, but I didn’t exactly grow up like impoverished, but I didn’t have as much money as most. There would be times the community my family was in would chip in to help buy my brother and i clothes or we would go nights without dinner.

I was kinda imagining trying to break habits we formed from our situations with Pantalone. Like helping each other to not force ourselves to finish a meal and not waste food or to not be so stingy on money 😭

Pantalone is such a rich man but growing up on the streets of Snezhnaya definitely formed some bad habits he doesn’t need anymore, and I want to help him get through them!!!

I just, houghh lonieee 😞😞 [📺]

No one would ever suspect Pantalone would have any habits of the sort because of the way he presents himself - at first glance, it would seem that the smiles and masks he puts up are impeccable. But of course, there are always those who see through him, you specifically, knowing what he went through and having gone through similar experiences as well.

It's cruelly amusing to even Pantalone sometimes - he has the economy in the palm of his hand, other nobles and business people trip over themselves to simply be in presence, but yet he still finds himself succumbing to the memories of the past, the hatred still embedded in his heart. Pantalone thinks he may lose it all, everything he's worked for, and become the desolate child he was again, despite his stability. Your heart can't help but hurt when you see your husband like this. In front of you, he always tries to show no weakness, not wanting to burden you further with this, but you've known him long enough to get him to open up, even if it's not that easy.

I imagine you and Pantalone would continuously give each other advice and nudge each other to try and change the habits, but would have trouble taking their own advice. Pantalone cares about your comfort more than his and vice versa. Pantalone also dances around the problem and skillfully changes the direction of the conversation whenever it's brought up due to his trauma. He doesn't like admitting his weaknesses especially when it's from the past. So it's definitely not the easiest to get through to each other. But it's the small steps that count, and in the end, you two still have each other.

(I am sorry you had to endure all of that 📺 anon, I hope you are in a better position now. Mwah 💖)

[blood-orange-juice]

I really really hope that Pantalone and Pulcinella will be worse than Dottore, Pulcinella being the worst of the bunch.

Because, you know. A banker and a politician.

[incorrectfatui]

Traveler, finally in Snezhnaya: What makes you think it's okay to watch Hannibal given its subject matter?  Pantalone: Sometimes, I watch television shows for entertainment purposes.  Columbina: Because I condone murder and cannibalism.

[cookiebonbon]

Okay, I feel like in the Dottolone relationship Pantalone is a flirty little fuck that loves to tease and mock Dottore in any way possible - and the doctor himself gets annoyed by that. The behaviour makes his blood boil yet deep inside he really enjoys it

[bloodblanks]

the cadence within [il dottore x reader] — chapter i.

As the daughter of a moderately wealthy businessman, you lived a comfortable but solitary life. You never thought to leave your peaceful refuge, not until one of your father’s associates—who was also your only friend—made an unexpectedly tempting offer.

co-written with noodsies, however, they’re shy and wish to stay anonymous! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mature content, including explicit sexual acts, violence, dottore himself, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

Power presents itself in many different forms. Most often, those with power are thought to possess strength, intelligence, wealth, or status. However, you were not exceptionally talented in any of the above. Instead, you found yourself gifted with something much less conventional—charisma.

—

“Pantalone!” You opened the door, beaming at the raven haired man who stood before you. “Lovely seeing you here today.” You stepped back and held the door for him.

“Y/N,” Pantalone returned the smile, thick eyelashes fluttering as his eyes crinkled with joy. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He walked inside before pausing, waiting for you to push the dense mahogany door into place, making sure it locked shut. Your home was in a rather secluded location where few people passed by—much less dare intrude. Secrecy was invaluable to all of your father’s guests.

“Unfortunately,” you began, “my father is running late today, which I apologize for. But please do come in and make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Your father was a busy man with a full schedule, one he went out of his way to readjust for the impromptu meeting request. It would have been unreasonable to expect perfect punctuality, and the apology wasn’t necessary.

Still, you had one job, and it was to be nice.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Pantalone replied. “Your generous hospitality more than compensates for it.”

While being cordial was more of a chore with the often unpleasant and impatient businessmen your father associated with, you found Pantalone’s company an effortless task.

You weren’t sure of the exact reasons behind it, but your home was often used as a place for meetings and negotiations relating to your father’s work. You weren’t present for the discussions themselves, but you did greet and welcome every guest—something your dad was not fond of doing himself.

For someone who worked a job where conversation was important, talking was not one of your father’s strengths. Though he managed just fine when it came to business, small talk and pleasantries were burdensome activities for him, which is why you handled them instead.

It wasn’t like you particularly enjoyed talking about the weather which never deviated from cold, or listening to middle aged men complain about joint pain, but you disliked it significantly less than your dad did. If anything, you had a tendency to avoid matters of actual significance, preferring your meaningless exchanges over accountability.

Pantalone was just another one of your father’s many associates, but he visibly stood out from the rest. You didn’t know much about them, but you were confident that everyone you’ve greeted was in some way or another, a powerful dignitary.

But they were no Harbinger.

That fact alone was enough to separate Pantalone from every other person you’ve ever interacted with throughout your approximately two decades of lifespan. You didn’t know for sure, but you knew well enough that his wealth and power surpassed that of all your father’s clientele combined.

But that wasn’t what truly made him different.

Pantalone was a striking contrast to your father’s other associate; not just because he was a Harbinger, but rather he was the sole person you could consider a friend.

You hadn’t bothered making new friends after moving to Snezhnaya. There wasn’t any particular reason for it. Although confidentiality could qualify, you found yourself either occupied with your own hobbies or keeping your father company when he was actually home and not busy with work. Anything you desired was delivered directly to your residence, so you had no need to venture into the city and make small talk with the shopkeepers.

This meant your interactions were limited to your father and his associates, all of whom were as pruned and grey as him. The only exception was Pantalone, and though you didn’t know exactly how old he was—it would be rude to ask—he didn’t seem significantly older than you, both in appearance and mannerisms. At the very least, he didn’t possess the wrinkles and bitterness the others did.

At some point, you began looking forward to your interactions, which both preceded and succeeded Pantalone’s business meetings with your dad. While you still maintained an air of professionalism with you, your amity went beyond mere pleasantries.

As you led him down the wide hallways and cavernous rooms, you couldn’t help but ask the question that had been nagging at you since yesterday.

“Pantalone,” you broke the silence, “may I ask a question?”

“Of course, dear,” he replied.

“Today’s a Monday,” you stated, “and you were just here last Tuesday.” For as long as you remembered, Pantalone had a very specific schedule. Once every other week, every Tuesday, he’d visit. As far as you knew, never had he strayed from that schedule—not until now.

“Ah, as observant as ever, Y/N,” Pantalone remarked.

“And on such short notice too...” you continued, letting your words trail off before asking him directly, “Is something the matter?”

You stopped in front of your father’s study, turning the doorknob and allowing Pantalone in, before you let the door leisurely shut on its own behind you both.

“Oh, no, not at all. It’s just that business can be unpredictable at times—I’m sure you understand.” His tone was as carefree and relaxed as ever, but you were certain this was no trivial matter. However, it wasn’t your business, so you set aside your curiosity and didn’t push any further.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “I was just a bit worried that something was up. I’m glad to hear that everything’s fine.”

‘Worried’ was an exaggeration. While you did care about Pantalone, you had no reason to fret over his well being. It was unlikely that anyone or anything could pose a serious threat to him, ever—he was a Harbinger. Perhaps it was disingenuous for you to feign concern, but you thought it was a polite sentiment regardless.

All of your dad’s meetings, with all of his associates, were held in this room. It was furnished with this intent in mind; a well-lit room with a coffee table flanked by two sofas near the centre, encircled by a desk, a few china cabinets, and most importantly, a kitchenette.

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Y/N.” A teasing remark, as you should have expected. You watched as Pantalone sat down on the sofa with a smirk.

“Do I seem that heartless to you?” you prodded back.

“Quite the opposite. If anything, you have too much heart.” Your eyes widened ever so slightly, Pantalone’s reply catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to answer so sincerely.

Despite your familiarity with conversation and flattery, you were usually the one to give compliments, not receive them.

“You’re flattering me. I’m not doing anything special,” you brushed it off awkwardly. You quickly turned towards the kitchenette to escape the topic. “Earl grey tea with cream and two sugar cubes?”

“Why, I’m flattered that you remember how I take my tea,” Pantalone said. You filled the kettle, waiting for the water to boil as you took out a teacup and saucer from the cabinet above you, along with tea leaves and an infuser. You opened the refrigerator beside you, retrieving a glass bottle of cream.

You weren’t sure how or when exactly it started, but you always had a fondness for tea. The shrubs themselves, the processing of the leaves, the plethora of varieties and tastes, the simple act of brewing tea—you adored it all. When you still lived in Fontaine, where the weather was warmer and vegetation was abundant, you would often tend to your imported Chenyu shrubs and curate the leaves yourself; something Snezhnaya’s harsh, frigid climate didn’t allow for.

Though you missed the extensiveness of your tea hobby in Fontaine, you found other ways to keep yourself occupied. The time you would have otherwise spent on picking leaves was now dedicated to baking. It was something your mother taught you from an early age, a craft you now spent time perfecting. After all, freshly baked goods were a perfect accompaniment to tea, and your father’s clients appreciated the assortment of delicacies.

It was an excuse to bake batches of pastries that you otherwise wouldn’t be able to finish if anything, but it was something everyone was happy with. The guests enjoyed your confectioneries, your father evaded vapid chit chat, and you baked to your heart’s content.

“I’ve made you tea every other week, ever since we’ve moved here,” you pointed out. “So about two and a half years. It’d be awfully rude if I didn’t remember your preferences by now.”

You earned a soft chuckle from Pantalone.

“Well, now I’m curious. What else do you remember about me?” he asked, the question making you gulp.

You did not have a good memory, and you were especially uncomfortable with being put on the spot, your brain oftentimes turning blank, forcing you to blurt out any nonsense to try and salvage whatever situation you were being put in. You tried to think of something to say so it wouldn’t be obvious that you couldn’t recall; that would be rude.

“Only your darkest secrets.” You fumbled with placing the dried leaves in the infuser.

“So you know her name then?” he interrogated, and of course you didn’t.

“Of course,” you declared with utmost confidence. “Full name, date of birth, medical records, everything.” You knew you were just digging yourself a deeper pit, but you had just poured the water and the tea wasn’t done steeping yet.

“And what about her death certificate?” he continued. You stirred the tea rapidly, pouring in just the right amount of cream alongside two sugar cubes, before picking it up and serving it with the plate of madeleines you had baked earlier.

“That’s included in the medical records.” You placed the tea down on the coffee table a bit too hard. You made sure to place the plate down more gently, as if to absolve yourself of embarrassment. “Here’s your tea. And of course, some madeleines I baked this morning.”

You sat down on the sofa across from him, awaiting his expression as he brought the teacup to his lips, sipping the beverage with elegance.

“It appears you really are as observant as ever,” he smiled with visible satisfaction.

“I’m observant when people are interesting,” you noted, relieved that the conversation had finally shifted.

“Is that so?” Pantalone put down the teacup. “Y/N, what about me do you find interesting?”

There were a plethora of things you found interesting about him, and you wondered if some of them would be too intrusive or direct to point out given his status, but promptly discarded the consideration.

“Well, for starters,” you said, “you’re a Harbinger.”

“Oh my,” Pantalone spoke with feigned surprise. “I nearly forgot!” He reached towards the plate, picking up one of your madeleines and taking a bite. You watched his face hungrily for validation, awaiting his judgement of your madeleines. Even though your confectioneries were never worse than satisfactory, you often liked to try new variations or entirely different recipes, taking note of any feedback from guests to further improve your skills.

“Wonderful baking as always, Y/N.” Pantalone’s words seemed to align with the pleased expression on his face, and you couldn’t help but grin, feeling proud of yourself.

“You know,” Pantalone started, bringing your attention back to the conversation, “such status can be quite cumbersome. People behave rather differently around you. It becomes hard to tell when such pleasantries and favours are coming from a place of genuine kindness, or somewhere else.”

The atmosphere suddenly dropped to a more solemn tone, startling you.

“Be that as it may, I’ve always felt at ease in your company. Contrary to popular opinion... us Harbingers aren’t all that different from everyone else, and I feel refreshingly ordinary in your presence.”

You listened to him attentively, musing over his sentences in your head to carefully formulate a response.

“Refreshingly ordinary...” you muttered. “I didn’t expect to hear that. If anything, you’re quite special to me. Regardless, I’m happy to hear that I’ve been pleasant company for you. The feeling is mutual.”

You finished speaking, a wistful smile on your face as you glanced downwards, the focus slipping from your gaze. While you and Pantalone had many conversations over the years, they primarily consisted of playful banter and idle chatter. Rarely would you be as pensive as you were now, and while sentimentality usually made you uncomfortable, you found yourself not minding it right now. Perhaps you were more lonely than you had originally considered, but you realized your words held more truth than expected.

Pantalone was someone special to you. There used to be others, too. When you still lived in Fontaine, you had close friends; people you deeply valued and cared for. But distance does not make the heart grow fonder. Distance simply meant the space between, and the space from Snezhnaya to Fontaine would parallel the growing disconnect between you and the ones you used to hold dear.

Everything in Teyvat had a limit to its elasticity, tangible or not. Things can only be stretched so far before the tension eventually causes it to sever. Emotional connection was no exception to that. Despite your agreements to continue writing one another and keep in contact, eventually the letters became fewer and longer between. The last time you had received a letter was about seven months ago.

People separate. People move on. It was only natural, and you had come to accept it. You had no idea what your former friends were doing now, but you were probably nothing more than a passing thought in their heads every once in a blue moon.

You didn’t often reminisce about them, either. But when you did, you would naturally ponder the idea of making new friends. Even though it would be wise to make an effort, you didn’t want to. Meeting new people, getting to know them, becoming as close to them as you were with your former friends—it was exhausting just to think about. You didn’t want to bother yourself with something so tedious.

But since Pantalone had been routinely visiting for the past few years, your attachment to him inevitably grew without you even realizing it.

Your rumination was interrupted by the sound of heavy, pounding footsteps rapidly approaching.

“Oh,” you said, “it seems like my father’s—”

“—Oh, Lord Pantalone, please forgive the delay!” The door flung wide open, your father rushing into the room. “Such tardiness in the face of a Harbinger is unacceptable and—”

“—Please, it’s all right, F/N,” Pantalone tried to calm your very much frantic father. “I was enjoying a lovely conversation over tea with your daughter just now and—”

“—No, no, no! This will not do!” your father declared. “You must be impossibly busy with work! We should discuss business as soon as possible—Y/N, you may take your leave now while we discuss urgent matters!”

You were halfway through getting up when Pantalone spoke.

“Well, actually, F/N, the reason I requested this meeting was because I wanted to speak with you regarding your daughter.”

What?

Your head snapped towards Pantalone, the rest of your body still frozen in an awkward motion between standing and sitting, your eyes wide with shock and mild horror.

You weren’t sure if you had heard him right or not. But judging by the similarly surprised look on your dad’s face, you likely heard him correctly.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t ever thought of Pantalone as attractive. His elegantly styled black hair was smooth and silky—or at least it appeared so, you never ran your fingers through it—and his skin was radiant, fair as porcelain, his amethyst irises embellished with full sets of ebony lashes, sitting behind intricate silver glasses that framed his gracefully poised face just right.

However, you had never thought of anything beyond that. Not only were you unsure about how old he was—he could be twice your age, for Archons’s sakes—he was also your dad’s business associate, and you weren’t sure how your dad would feel about that, though you supposed you’d find out soon.

“Uh,” your dad stumbled over his own words, “Lord Pantalone... are you sure you want to, uh, discuss such matters with Y/N present?”

“Why, of course, F/N,” Pantalone replied, completely nonchalant. Your eyes darted between him and your father, the two of them wearing completely opposite expressions.

“Uhh,” your dad gibbered awkwardly, “are you sure you want to discuss such matters with me present?” You could see that he, too, was looking back and forth at the both of you in a futile attempt to grasp the situation. He was presumably contemplating the prospect of anything having happened between the two of you. The thought alone was enough to fluster you, and you were just thinking of how to explain that no, you were not and had not been sleeping with his business partner, when Pantalone spoke again.

“Oh, Archons, no, it’s nothing like that, please don’t misunderstand!” he exclaimed, his statement sending you into a brand new state of confusion. “I merely want your daughter to spy on Dottore.”

“I’m sorry, what?” you interjected, evident disbelief in your voice. You didn’t need to look at your dad to know he was even more disturbed than you, considering how he was at a loss for words.

“You see, it has recently come to my attention that Dottore is plotting something rather unfavourable to the Tsaritsa,” Pantalone elaborated, though you weren’t sure whether his explanation was helping or worsening the situation. “As a Harbinger, it is my duty to ensure her safety, and as Dottore’s closest associate, I’m in a most advantageous position to do so. Alas, I am but one man, so some assistance would be incredibly helpful.”

While the initial misconception was already difficult to process, the clarification was even more incomprehensible. You were stunned, unable to formulate any coherent thoughts until your dad managed to snap out of his stupor.

“You want my daughter to spy on Il Dottore? Forgive me, Lord Pantalone, but are you daft? How the hell is she supposed to do that? She is a child!” Despite its irrelevance to the situation, you couldn’t help a spark of irritation rising up at his words. You scowled, but put your annoyance aside for now, for there were more pressing matters at hand. Your father was becoming agitated, so you made an attempt to assuage the tension.

“...It’s fine,” you said, straightening up as you turned towards the Harbinger. “Pantalone, could you please elaborate?”

“Well, you see, I need someone whom I know and trust, that Dottore doesn’t know, but can come to trust,” he asserted. “I need someone new, unassuming, but not entirely unfamiliar. Someone who can keep a secret and find a secret. Who better than the daughter of the magnificent F/N?”

From an outside perspective, it was easy to make the assumption that you were knowingly assisting your father in keeping his clandestine activities concealed. Most people likely thought that, but it’d be incorrect.

Truthfully, your role in your father’s work was limited to greeting associates and serving them tea, along with any freshly baked goods you had made. Of course, you knew that your father wasn’t the most noble of men, considering his clientele—the Harbinger on your sofa being a perfect example—but that was the extent of your knowledge, and you preferred to keep it that way. You knew it made you apathetically recreant, but it was much easier to stay unaware and turn a blind eye to his questionable doings. You would keep yourself uninvolved in his business, hiding under your security blanket of willful ignorance.

The exact shelter that Pantalone was trying to coax you out of.

“Well, okay, sure, but—” your dad tried to protest.

“—And as a token of my gratitude,” Pantalone furthered,

“I would bring M/N back to life.”

next chapter soon... any interactions are appreciated (´･ω･`) thank you very much for supporting my work! ♡

[astermagne-but-genshin]

“Oh, how I would love to fall backwards on a lush , satin bed, eyes closed, a hand to my head dramatically, as I place my other hand behind me, for someone , at the ready, to hold it..”

- Pantalone @ Dottore , probably