dottoyo
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Summary
"So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; and it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body."
'‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
Bookmarked by dottoyo
30 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
The most realistic writing of grief and my fav ship… planning to reread it very often.
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Summary
Pantalone glances towards the thick wooden doors that lead to his bedroom, and imagines Dottore above him, those gloved hands around his throat as they fuck each other senseless. Maybe he would get to see beyond that mask, finally.
Tsaritsa, it was a tempting decision. It really was.
But he’s so afraid of regretting it. What if he wakes up tomorrow, and it was the wrong thing to do? What if Dottore holds it over his head, blackmailing him into doing whatever he wants him to?
What if he finds out that he likes it a lot more than he thought he should?
Or, in which a war is coming, a bet is made to destroy the Heavens, and the Regrator finds that his frozen heart might not be so frozen after all.
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- English
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Bookmarked by dottoyo
01 Jan 2026