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magicalbats · 6 months

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Kinktober Day 15: Noncon

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6908

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, familial death, noncon, like super noncon, debt, monetary coercion, references to prostitution and public use, implied master/slave dynamic, piv sex, blowjob, throat fucking, double penetration featuring a Fatui debt collector

A/N: at this point I think anything I write for a Harbinger is just going to be exceptionally dark and gross so tbh consider that a warning in and of itself. This one’s rough so please pay attention to the tags before proceeding any further! I love you guys and I want you all to stay safe so feel free to skip this one if you think you need to!

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Snow crunches under heavy boots as you make your way through the small village you called home. It was late, and the moon was out. Its muted, hazy glow casts over the snowdrifts and the shoveled heaps piled away from silent doorways to make it all glitter and shine like mountains of precious silver. You wished that was what it was. Wished you could dig your hands into it and scoop out palmfulls to spend on food and clothes, firewood for the hearth at home so you wouldn’t have to break your back chopping it for yourself every day. Maybe even a new comb for your hair, as a treat.

You would have been able to afford anything at all if it was something of actual worth stretching out around you as far as the eye could see, so of course you would splurge on a comb. Perhaps even two. And a dress, a fancy one that would make the other girls green with jealousy while the boys threw themselves at your feet like shameless dogs. Anything and everything would be just at your fingertips in this perfect world of whimsical fantasy. Even your freedom.

It was a nice thought. A tempting one, even. But if snow could be somehow transmuted into silver or any other precious metal then Snezhnaya would be the financial capital of Teyvat rather than the far distant Liyue. Your father had told you about it on occasion, what kind of place it was. How bustling with business and commerce the streets were. You’d thought it sounded like a strange but exciting place. So much potential for success bursting at the seams, just waiting to be struck upon, that you’d once even dreamed of going there yourself some day. Of making a future beyond the hopeless deadend you saw here.

But that was little more than a long forgotten flight of fancy now, much like your silver-snow. Fantasies were just idle hopes and wishes for children who hadn’t yet learned the crushing truths of the world, and the weight of that sags your shoulders as you work to jostle your front door open. You were tired and cold, and quickly running out of options.

The door finally gives way with a creak, and you stumble inside to knock the snow off your boots before bending to unlace them. You’re halfway through the motion, one shoe already undone and half kicked off, when you suddenly realize you’re not alone.

You aren’t sure if it’s a shift of movement at your peripheral, if the redistribution of weight had displaced one of the old floorboards to issue a squeak of warning or if it’s something in the air that just feels … occupied. But you’re immediately aware of it on an intrinsic level and your heart seems to play hopscotch across your ribcage. Frozen to the spot, you just listen to the resounding silence for a long, horrible beat. Then your head comes up to glance across the room at the open doorway that leads into the small kitchen. A warm flicker of light greets your horrified gaze, taunts you with a beckoning sputter. You certainly hadn’t left the lantern burning this entire time, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have even had a home to return to.

Slowly straightening, you hastily shove your feet back into your boots and reach for the knife hidden under your jacket. You grasp it in a tight, squeezing fist, just the way your father had shown you, and creep towards the doorway. It feels like you're hardly breathing but your pulse still jumps when the floor creaks under you. Nothing to be concerned about though, you try to tell yourself. They would have heard you come in anyway, especially since your damn door never wanted to open right. It was fine if they knew you were there because you knew where they were and it was your house, so you still had the upper hand. Probably. Maybe.

Oh, please don’t let there be more than one of them, you pray to whichever god might be listening.

Edging yourself close to the entryway, you’re more than a little relieved to find that it is indeed just a single figure standing over your rickety dinner table and you almost breathe out a heavy sigh. But then that shadowy mass turns, the cast of the lantern illuminating the face, and you nearly drop your knife in surprise.

“L - lord Regrator?”

He smiles at you, always soft and always gentle. “Hello, pet. Finally off work are we?”

You just stand there, mouth moving wordlessly around any number of things you could have said to him in that moment. ‘What are you doing in my house?’ for starters. Maybe even an impulsive ‘why are you sneaking around at night like a thief?’ But all you finally manage to croak out is a threadbare, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, my lord” because you simply don’t know what else to say.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I haven’t been here for very long.” Still smiling, still soft, he reaches out with an elegantly poised gloved hand as if to touch the top of your table but he stops short. Seems to hesitate. Thinks better of it, and instead sweeps those long fingers outward to gesture at the kitchen at large. “Your home is lovely. Quaint.”

Pantalone hides his grimace exceptionally well. You only barely manage to make out the slightest tension that settles around his mouth in the cast of the burning lantern that sits sentry on the table between you and him, tossing odd shadows across his face. His contempt for your lodgings is clear though and you self consciously dart your eyes around the room as if seeing it all for the first time. The old, dilapidated iron stove that looked like it was on its last leg, the crack in the wall where the foundation was starting to give, bit by bit, and the rusting coffee carafe sitting in the tub sink. It probably did look abhorrent compared to what he was in all likelihood used to but it was all you’d ever known. The only thing you’d ever had that couldn’t be taken away.

Swallowing hard, you center your focus back on him and try not to think about how much he looked like a finely dressed specter standing in the ruins of your life like this. Beautiful and nice to look at but you knew too well the venomous fangs he was hiding beneath that deceptively pleasant veneer. Like a wraith come to life to haunt you endlessly. Tirelessly. Ghoulishly.

“Please forgive me, my lord.” You whisper into the eerie stillness. “Had I known you would be coming I would have cleaned and made preparations. Would you like me to make tea?”

“Not at all.”

You wince, and try not to wither. “Then is there something I can help you with?”

Noising a thoughtful sound, Pantalone casually shifts into motion and you very nearly go scuttling backwards to escape him. But, to your surprise, he doesn’t approach you and instead wanders over to the stove to give it a shuttered but no less judgemental inspection. You start to bring your hand up to wipe the beading sweat from your brow only to abruptly realize you were still holding onto the knife.

Stealing a look at where you’ve got it clutched in a death grip, you quickly decide to keep it out for the moment. You very well might need it.

“One would think that old fool would have used some of the loan he borrowed to do a bit of upkeep on the place.” He murmurs, more to himself than you and perfectly offhand, but it still makes your chest squeeze tight. You probably should have seen this coming but the hurt catches you off guard. Makes you hate him just a little more.

“I’m sorry my home is not to your liking, lord Regrator. I could have met you somewhere else if you’d just - -“

“Oh?” Pantalone cuts across you, neither raising his voice nor sharpening his tone. It’s the same soft, gentle refinement in his voice as usual that makes you cower in the doorway when he turns to make his long cloak flutter outward like a dancer. “And why would I give you the chance to run out on me like that? I know this isn’t exactly your area of expertise, dear, but surely even you must know that that’s just bad for business.”

You find yourself prickling defensively. For him to even insinuate such a thing … “I wouldn’t do that, my lord. I’ve been working hard to pay you back this entire time, just like we agreed. I even got a second job at the mill so I could make ends meet and still be able to make my payments on time. To up and leave after all the effort I’ve put into - -“

“Then can you give me your next payment now?”

“I … my lord, I still have another week to get it.”

Looking at you through the creeping gloom, Pantalone finally allows a small frown to tug at his mouth. “So that’s a ‘no’? Such a pity. I’d really rather hoped you would be better than your father.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. Hot and nauseous, and increasingly dizzy, you just stare at him for a drawn out beat before finally giving your head a numb shake. “No. That’s not what you said. My lord, you agreed - -“

“Let me explain something to you.” He cuts across you again, the faintest note of displeasure coloring his voice now. Sedately, he folds his hands together and moves towards you with the slow, rhythmic thud of his boots on the floorboards making your heart pound even faster. It sounded deafeningly loud in your cotton stuffed ears. “Loans are not granted out of goodwill and charity. There are terms that must be agreed upon by both parties before any mora can trade hands. Would you care to take a guess what terms your father took his loan out on?”

You shake your head and back up a step, still clutching the knife beside your hip. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to run, flee as fast as you can and never look back, but that would just make things worse, wouldn’t it? Prove that his wariness to trust you was well founded. You couldn’t afford to test the limits of his benevolence any further, figuratively or literally, so you stand your ground even when he comes within arms reach where he finally stops. Tilts his head to one side and then draws a calm breath.

“Twenty-five percent interest. That is what accumulates every single day you don’t make a payment in full. To put it in layman’s terms, the only way for you to even make a dent in your fathers loan would be to pay around, oh, let’s say … 16000 mora a week?”

Your knees almost give out right from under you. That couldn’t be true. There was no way … “Do — do you really expect me to be able to pay that much?”

Softly tutting at you, Pantalone fixes you with a truly pitying look. “Oh, sweet girl. I would never ask something so unreasonable of you. But, as it stands, you did agree to take responsibility for the loan. Rather than a personal expectation on my part, you now have the obligation to pay it back regardless of my own personal thoughts on the matter.”

“What choice did I have?” You croak. “What else was I supposed to say when you showed up at his funeral and started talking about stuff I have no knowledge of? You made it sound like I didn’t even have a say in it.”

“Well, that’s hardly my fault if you agreed to something without understanding the full consequences.”

You were starting to pant even though you hadn’t moved for some time now. It was like you were a tea kettle on the brink of boiling, so hot and messed up inside that you weren’t sure what the inevitable explosion was going to look like. You wanted to scream at him, throw yourself on the floor and sob like an inconsolable baby. You wanted to curse him, spit at him, hurt him — hurt him?

Your fingers desperately clench around the knife to make sure it was still there.

You could hurt him.

Maybe you should hurt him.

“You’re a monster,” You hiss, finding strength in your conviction, in the blade that had become a part of your arm, an extension of it. Stiffly, you shift to the side so he won’t see the way you readjust your grip on the handle to make sure you’ve got a good hold on it. “A twenty-five percent interest rate? That’s insane. No average person could pay that back in a single lifetime and you know that. You’re just a thief taking advantage of people.”

Seamlessly, Pantalone’s placid little smile slips back into place. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” You hiss the word at him, and try to work up your courage to follow through. You’d never stabbed another person before but in this instance, for him, you were quite certain you could. All you needed to do was goad him into closing the distance and get him near enough for your knife to reach. “You prey on the poor and impoverished like it’s some kind of game, don’t you? Is this what gets you off?”

“That’s a rather crass thing for a young lady to say, isn’t it?” He simpers at you. Then, much to your heart pounding surprise, he takes a step towards you. And another. “But since you asked I feel it would be remiss of me not to give you an answer. How does a demonstration sound?”

Your eyes go big, startled heat warming your cheeks quicker than you can even process it. There wasn’t enough time to think about that right now though. He was almost right on top of you, looming over you like some horrible, menacing beast in his fine furs. You seem to have forgotten how to breathe when the only thought flashing through your mind was sinking the blade in your hand through his chest. His neck. Whatever you could reach in the split second chance you were going to get to deliver the blow. Jaw clenched painfully tight, you squeeze your fingers around the knife so hard it hurts.

And you lunge.

An unseen hand materializes out of the darkness behind you and snatches your upraised wrist before you can bring it down. You’re so caught off guard that you don’t even have the wherewithal to gasp. A rough jerk on your arm yanks you off balance and right back against a solid wall of muscle that doesn’t even shift at the impact. Your animal instincts seem to take over and you wildly jerk your head up, just catching a glimpse of a red mask, a black hood, and then sharp, tearing pain is shooting up your captured limb. The masked fiend — a man, judging by his frame — twists and mercilessly bends your wrist until you drop the knife with an earth shattering clatter on the floor. Dully realizing you were caught and unarmed now, you violently wrench against his hold in an attempt to free yourself but he just drags you against him again.

Screaming and kicking, he heedlessly maneuvers you further into the kitchen but even trying to turn into dead weight in his arms doesn’t dissuade him in the slightest. All he does is haul you close, lift you up in the air and then slam you down on top of the table with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’re distantly aware of him shuffling back a step as you lie there, gasping and wheezing while you weakly try to pull your body upright again but it’s useless. The teeth rattling impact against the sturdy wood had effectively stunned you. Your limbs didn’t want to cooperate and it was hard just to breathe, let alone try to run or fight back.

And somehow through all the agony you’re vaguely aware of Pantalone’s approaching boot steps on the floor.

“Goodness, was that really necessary? You could have set the whole place on fire.” He tut tuts at his underling and you slowly turn your head to watch him pick up the lantern where it was tipped over. The only thing that had stopped it from shattering or rolling off onto the floor was the protective cage around the glass but you weren’t sure if you wanted to thank whoever had designed it or curse them for it. There was no telling what they were going to do to you, and you may have preferred going up in a puff of smoke when all was said and done …

Archons above, how were you supposed to get out of this?

“Now,” Intoning, Pantalone gracefully moves to set the lantern on the adjacent countertop where it wouldn’t get knocked over again. The glow from the flame dances and moves with him, and you groan when it seems to make your nausea double down. You’d never felt quite so sick in all your life. “As I was saying, I think a hands-on demonstration should satisfy your curiosity well enough. As an aside, though, I would suggest not asking men about their sexual proclivities in the future. It just might keep you out of trouble.”

“Bastard …”

He comes close again, reaching out to close his fingers around the roots of your hair so he can yank your head back against the table. Seething, you glare up at him but he just keeps smiling that same polite smile. It was hideous.

“My, my, that really is a filthy mouth you’ve got. Did you learn that from your father? Perhaps we should wash it out with soap while we’re at it.”

“Stop it! Do not speak of him!”

Chuckling faintly, Pantalone slowly lets up on your hair before moving to step around the table. Wheezing, you hastily try to roll over so you can slip down to the floor but the masked man stops you dead in your tracks. He was just standing there. Watching. Still and silent as a statue but you didn’t have to see his eyes to know how attentive his focus was. Like he was just waiting for the slightest hint of real resistance so he could use it as an excuse to rough you up again. Evil and loyal to a fault.

From out of the void, Pantalone’s gloved fingers abruptly brush over your pants leg to make you jolt and whip your attention around so fast the room starts to spin. But once your vision clears enough to see, you just find him standing over you and as at ease as ever. He would have looked completely unassuming if you didn’t know any better.

“Do try to keep your eyes on me, darling. After all, I’m going out of my way to give you a thorough and worthwhile answer, so the least you can do is pay attention.”

“Please don’t …”

Drawing a stilted breath that seems to shudder at the tail end, he slowly drags his palm up to your knee and then back down until it hits the top of your boot. Casually, much too casually for your liking, he disinterestedly nudges it off your foot to hit the floor before repeating the process on the other side. You cower on top of the table, biting back a sob when he reaches up to unbutton your jacket next, but you understood too well just how trapped you really were. The masked man was standing between you and the entryway, much bigger and much stronger than you were. You’d never be able to fight your way past him. In front of you was Pantalone and to the other side … the small kitchen door that led out into the yard was a non option because you hadn’t shoveled away the snow in months. You’d thought it was a good idea to leave as few points of entry into the house as possible now that you were alone, but you realized just how foolish that really was. You had no way out, no viable exits.

“Are you really going to do this?” You fearfully whisper into the still air.

With a soft click of his tongue, Pantalone gets the last button undone and brings his hands up again to push the jacket over your shoulders. “Only because you asked.”

A full bodied tremor tears through you at the pur in his silky voice. Sucking in a ragged, gasping breath, you turn your head against the table to fix your attention on the beckoning door while he works on the next layer, and the next, leaving everything bunched around the bends of your arms, until he at last gets down to the bottommost chemise. You shiver at the loss of heat and the chill that rushes in to replace it, your nipples already cutting up into the thin material, but your reaction doesn’t so much as give him pause.

Gloved hands drag up your front to cup around the swell of your breasts and squeeze, making you whimper in the back of your throat. “Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were hiding such a voluptuous body underneath all those clothes.” Humming softly, as if in consideration, Pantalone readjusts his hold and shoves your tits together to make them squish under the final layer. “These are nice, aren’t they … have you ever considered going into prostitution? I’m sure you could make a pretty mora for yourself.”

You screw your eyes shut but it doesn’t do much to block out the sound of his voice. “I would never …”

“Oh? What a shame.” Pausing, he releases your chest in favor of neatly folding the material up to bunch under your chin and you outright writhe when the chilly air hits your stiff nipples full blast. “Though, if I’m being honest, I am quite tempted to take you with me back to the palace and start selling you myself. You’d be quite popular, you know. One look at this body and every man in the room would be tripping over themselves just to give me their entire savings for a mere hour with you. Perhaps you could pay me back that way, hm?”

Whimpering when Pantalone lightly brushes his fingers over the pebbled peaks of your breasts, the leather stiff and cool to the touch, you twist your neck back in a blithe attempt to escape that velvety croon. It was no use though. Like you were smothered under his presence you could feel him, hear him all around you. You could even taste him on the back of your tongue where the cloying scent of expensive cologne swarmed your senses. It was too much. You didn’t want this.

“Please … I’ll do anything, just — please don’t do this to me.”

He gently shushes you even as he takes a moment to tweak your nipples, almost idly plucking at them until you hiss and choke on a broken little sob. Leaning over you then, hunching close, Pantalone puts his face near enough to yours that his exquisite eyeglass chain slides forward to brush against your cheek. He just looks at you like that for a long moment, still pinching your teats like an afterthought.

Then, “You’ll do anything except the one thing that might actually get you out of this mess? My dear, I think you’re even more confused than I first thought. You do not have the luxury of choice here.”

Your stomach clenches. Roils and heaves. The dread that settles over you is debilitatingly crushing but you can’t quite stop yourself from looking up at him now, brows drawn in confusion and agony alike. “What do you mean?” It’s barely more than a whisper.

“What I mean is simple. I own you.” He hisses it, punctuating that statement with an aggressive twist of your nipples to make you shriek. “Until that loan is paid off in full, you belong to me. Your life is in my hands, pet. If I decide you’re going to go stand naked in the town square and present yourself to every man walking by until you find a taker then that is precisely what you are going to do. Is that clear enough for you?”

You squawk out a frantic, wild sound that might be a ‘yes’ and, to your reeling surprise, he immediately lets up on your poor breasts entirely. Just like that his mood seems to shift back to the usual placid tone and soft smiles, and you violently shudder as he soothes his palms over your aching teats as if to lessen the hurt. You can’t even begin to make sense of it but the relief you feel is staggering, and you force your quaking body to relax into it as much as you can manage. Of course you’d known what he was hiding under that pleasant facade, had seen it peek out on more than one occasion, but this was far beyond what even you had thought him capable.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised though. Maybe you should have expected it on some level, but you now knew how very fine the line you were walking really was. He could do anything at all to you if the notion struck his fancy and something told you making you sell your body on the streets was only a small drop in the bucket. He was evil and deranged. Cutthroat. You had to play your cards very carefully if you wanted to avoid the worst of it.

You repeat that to yourself, over and over again in your mind like a mantra when he finally reaches for your pants. It takes everything you have not to scream and kick, spit at him like a wild animal, but you manage, somehow, to just lay there, allowing him to get them pulled down your legs right along with your soft drawers. Left in nothing but your socks and the rumpled up heap of jackets and shirts bunched around your arms, you shyly squeeze your legs together to hide from him. You didn’t want him to see your most intimate spot. To look upon you like a lover would, but you don’t fight it when he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the table.

You had to play nice. Had to be good for him so he wouldn’t sell you to anyone that could afford to pay the hefty price tag he would no doubt ask for. Just the thought of him taking you makes bile rise in the back of your throat but even in the jittery panic coursing through your system you still recognized exactly how limited your options were. This was the lesser of two evils. You hated it beyond measure, but it was the far more bearable alternative.

So you hold your breath, head spinning at an alarming rate, when he nudges your knees apart. Let them fall open in a shameless spread that leaves you bared to him and vulnerable. Your face feels like it’s on fire and furious tears sting your eyes, but you just clench your hands into tight, shaking fists. The nails dig in to lance pain through your palms and it helps ground you. Steadies your nerves even when he coos down at you with a saccharine sweetness.

“And such a pretty pussy too … I admit, I’m rather impressed. I didn’t take you for the sort.”

You adamantly refused to respond to him now, leaving your mouth pursed in a thin line and your head turned away so you could keep your attention locked on the door. You should have shoveled the snow. Should have considered your situation a little more carefully.

The featherlight brush of Pantalone’s fingertips on your cunt makes you jolt, almost pulls your head back around, but you stay firm on this. Prone and pliant for him as he traces a brief path down your slit before nudging into the lips to feel for your entrance. You wince at the contact, grimacing when he worms one long digit into your body even when he meets resistance, even though your shuddering muscles try to keep him out. The drag of his glove along your inner sleeve pulls a muffled hiss from you but he doesn’t even seem to notice. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Tight too. That will help your value price a great deal. Tell me, poppet. You wouldn’t happen to be a virgin, would you?”

You don’t much appreciate the note of humor in his voice, the sly inflection that would seem to suggest he found the prospect amusing. Delightful, even. Seething through your teeth at the uncomfortable penetration, you can’t help but squirm with the overwhelming urge to run away. “No.” You practically growl the word. “I’m not, you sick bastard.”

Chuckling softly, he takes a moment to fuck into you with his finger, soon adding a second to stretch you out, but it does little in the way of good. There was too much tension thrumming through your body; too many aches and pains, and fast pumping adrenaline, and not nearly enough pleasure to be found on his cool digits to draw any amount of wetness out of you. But you keep your legs spread because you know that’s what is expected of you. You don’t protest when he eventually withdraws his fingers and reaches up to flick your shirt back open where you’d tried to pull it closed over your chest to stave off some of the cold. And you just lay there, unmoving save the harsh rise and fall of your labored breaths, when he reaches down to spread open his cloak before working to free himself from his pants.

You don’t look. You can’t look, your heart painfully wrenching as he shuffles close to line his cock up. The blunt pressure of the head sinking into your slit steals the air from your lungs and you freeze, holding yourself so still it makes the joints scream in protest when he slowly starts to sink into you. Inch by excruciating inch, he bullies his way into your cunt and you choke on a pitiful little sound when your body is forced to grant him entry. It hurts. The smooth, silky texture of his length does nothing at all to ease the discomfort when you were trembling so stiffly and your guts were tight with fear. Pantalone just grunts over top of you though, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips tight enough to make bruises bloom under the pressure.

And finally, an eternity later, he settles against you at long last.

A wounded groan spills from your mouth as you sensitively twitch on his cock. He was so hot, so blindingly warm inside you, it felt like he was branding you from the inside out. Leaving his mark where no one else would ever be able to see it. You’d never be able to forget the claim he’d made on your body though, with or without his stamp seared into your flesh, and you wheeze, trying very hard not to hyperventilate. Somehow spewing your guts up all over him didn’t seem like it would do you any favors.

“Oh, that is a tight fit, isn’t it?” He murmurs, allowing himself a moment to just bask in the squeeze of your body. The weak palpitations trying to push him out which only succeed in milking at him. A pleasurable tremor works through his frame, and he reaches up to adjust the position of the glasses on his nose where they’d started to slide forward. “You certainly know how to make a good case for yourself, pet. I admit, I’m suddenly feeling less inclined to sell you for a profit and more partial towards keeping you for my own personal use.”

Stiffening on the table, you shoot him a quick, wild look before you can stop it, but he just laughs, very softly.

“Don’t look so surprised. You aren’t nearly as clever as you think.” Loosing a breathy, almost dreamy sigh, Pantalone starts to slowly pull out and you jolt so hard at the gripping drag against your innards that you slam your head back into the wood with a resounding thud. “I had my suspicions when you stopped struggling but you didn’t even have the decency to beg me to stop. Although I do appreciate the cooperation on your part, I still wasn’t entirely convinced you would be worth the trouble. Housing, feeding, upkeep … there are so many different things to consider when one is thinking of taking on the responsibility of a new pet.”

He pauses, the head of his cock just wedged inside your cunt now. Tipping his face down, he regards the sight of you spread out for him, on your back with your legs curled open around his waist and his rigid length poised to spear back into you. It makes him hum a quiet groan, his usually placid smile growing a little sharper. Hungrier. He looks at you like a finely dressed conqueror about to lay ruin to a yet untouched and fertile land. His for the taking.

Slowly, he starts to sink in again. “But this sweet little cunt of yours is taking me so well. Even without the proper preparations you still fit me like a glove. Like you were made just for my cock … tell me, darling, will you be a good pet for me?”

“Y - yes …” You seethe, once more screwing your eyes shut so you won’t have to look at him. Flawless and beautiful, and horrible hunching over you.

There was an end in sight though, if you could just reach out and grasp it. Clutch it to your chest with fervent hysteria and never let it go. He’d already damned you but you were willing to take your salvation wherever you could get it. The mere thought of other men having you like this, all strangers, faces you’ve never seen before; the old and the young, the sick and the drunk, is enough to steel your resolve. If this was to be your fate you would much rather suffer solely at Pantalone’s hands than anyone else’s.

And he moans, ever so faintly, at your acquiescence. Starts to pump into you a bit quicker, ignoring the way your face pinches in pain and discomfort. “Will you do everything I say, poppet? Will you be a nice and obedient dog for me? Will you call me master?”

The breathy quality of his voice makes your stomach wrench and threaten to regurgitate all of its contents, but you force yourself to stiltedly nod. “Yes, I will. Anything … m - master.”

“Such a good, smart girl you are.” He laughs. “Then will you suck his cock for me?”

You go ramrod stiff, a fresh surge of horror washing over you. It crashes against you like turbulent ocean waves hitting the rocks on a beach, slamming with enough force to slowly chip away at their density over time. You’d forgotten about the masked man. So caught up in your own misery his presence had completely slipped your mind for the last however many minutes, but when you stiffly turn your head, you find him already working to undo the front of his pants. Evidently he did not need to be told twice.

And, to your lurching horror, you clearly had very little choice in the matter.

“Wait — that’s not what you said!” You squeak, shooting Pantalone a wide eyed, wild look, but he just purses his lips at you. Coos like he would at a baby.

“Although I might be willing to keep you for myself that doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t deign to share you from time to time, for my own amusement. Besides, it’s just your mouth. I’m much more concerned with this tight cunt of yours.”

He groans, low and faltering as his pace starts to pick up more. The dull whap of his clothed hips meeting the fleshy give of your thighs grows louder, more insistent, his cock relentlessly carving out a space within you now. It seems to punch the air out of your lungs and you gasp, bleating helplessly there on the table.

A hand suddenly materializes under your chin and locks around your jaw to yank your head back at an awkward angle. You catch a split second glimpse of the cock bobbing in your face, chest hitching in surprise and distress, and horror at what was happening to you, but it was too late. The masked man angles his pelvis forward and roughly shoves himself into your mouth. You shriek around the intrusion, tears stinging your eyes at the cloying taste of him. Salty and musky, bitter enough to make your skin crawl, but there’s nothing you can do about it. He just keeps your neck pinned down while Pantalone fucks into you even harder, his moans becoming louder when your body subconsciously squeezes him every time you writhe.

It was like you were being stretched between two equally unrelenting forces and even trying to twist away does nothing to make it better. Your breasts just jostle violently with each thrust from the man positioned between your legs and your throat constricts painfully when the masked stranger tries to shove his length straight down your gullet. Coughing and sputtering, struggling just to breathe, you force yourself to go still again and just accept what was happening on the slim chance that would make it somehow more tolerable.

But of course it doesn’t. The unknown Fatuus doesn’t stop trying until your face is covered in a slimy, bubbling sheen of spittle and saliva that slowly runs back into your hair. Finally, after many attempts that have left your throat bruised and raw, he at last manages to sink himself halfway into the squeezing passage and you violently jerk when you realize you can’t breathe. A tiny, muffled noise manages to escape your constricting airway, but he just groans in response and shudders as if it felt good. You quickly become lightheaded, stomach heaving as if to finally throw up but — he suddenly pulls out to leave you desperately gasping and choking in the aftermath.

Weakly, you try to lift your head with the intention of sending Pantalone an imploring look but the other man just palms the top of your skull and manually turns you back towards his cock again. Not having a choice, you pitifully roll your eyes up to look at him instead even as you take his length back into your mouth. You can see him snarling under his mask from this angle, his lips pulled back in a sneer of concentration while he thrusts towards the back of your aching throat to drag out more sticky sheets of drool that run down your chin in messy clumps.

It is not this degradation that finally breaks you, nor is it the fact Pantalone is using you like a mere toy for him to get off on. What eventually does it is the sticky wet click you just manage to make out over all the other lurid sounds buzzing around you, and you dully realize it’s coming from between your legs. Your cunt was slicking for him. Against your will, defying all logic and reason, your body was responding to this cruel treatment. That horrifies you perhaps more than anything else and, letting out a wailing sob, you let the tears spill out to track hot, stinging paths down your burning face.

The masked man clicks his tongue as if disgusted to see you crying like this, and he finally lets up his hold on your jaw. Allowing your head to loll bonelessly on the table, you just lay there while he reaches down to grab a pinching handful of your swaying breast, squeezing it so hard you groan in response.

Between your spread legs, Pantalone issues a quiet, insidious chuckle. “Poor thing. You already look so tired … not to worry though. I’m sure a nice warm bath back at the palace will have you back to sorts quickly enough.”

You hiccup at the thought, distantly realizing how cold you were. Yes, this was certainly the best outcome you could have hoped for. Pantalone would take care of you. Feed you. Keep you warm and clean, and comfortable so long as you were obedient. A nice pet for him to play with whenever the mood struck. It wasn’t exactly the life you’d dreamed of, but at least it was something.

It wasn’t the prosperous lands of opportunity in Liyue you’d longed for as a child when your father was still alive, but at least it was a marginally better life than the one you currently had.

The toll it would have on your body and mind alike seemed a reasonable price to pay for your freedom from debt. After all, what other choice did you even have?

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #pantalone #pantalone x reader #self insert bullshit

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slimearchon · 17 days

Text

Pretending to flirt in gamer chat with gamer boyfriend Xiao x GN reader

(Not edited)

You had your headset on, and you fiddled with the mic a bit, nervous about the prank you were about to pull.

You were sitting on your couch, Xiao in the corner of the living room at his gamer desk playing a PC game. You had always been more of a console person, a black controller in your hand since elementary school.

You rarely talking in-game both a mixture of too shy and the fact that you game to relive stress not to elevate it.

You joined a Minecraft server and put down a good bad and had your friend Aether join the world under a fake gamer tag. He was using a voice changer so Xiao didn’t catch on too quick.

It made his voice lower and cool toned, not his regular high pitched bright tone.

“Hey how’s it going? Wanna build with me?” You asked into the mic, tilting your head away from Xiao because a smile was inching its way on your face.

“Cool. Nice to meet you, Kade. What do you like doing more? Collecting materials or stacking the blocks? Cool, me know if you want to switch and I’ll start collecting too.”

This raised your boyfriend brow but other than that he didn’t look over or turn in his seat. You nodded your head to your self.

You planned to ease into this prank. You played for another thirty minutes, laughing at some of the jokes Aether attempted to make.

The third time you burst out laughing Xiao turned his head at you, you noticed his screen light up on a recently killed background.

He mouthed, “Who are you talking to?” He tilted his head, the lamp light making his real eyes sparkle in the otherwise dark room.

You made it like you muted your mic but kept Aether aware that your prank was working. “No one just a rando I met today. He has the best jokes.” You repeated some of the ones he has told to see Xiao’s reaction.

All the jokes were Minecraft related and the only reaction your boyfriend gave was a slight narrow of his eyes and deadpan stare. Clearly not liking the jokes.

“I’m about done with my game. You want me to join?” He asked, his eyes looking at the boxy male character that showered you in building building blocks.

Usually he was your collector and you were the decorator.

“No, it’s fine babe! Play your game.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head slightly and returned back to his PC.

The final nail in the coffin was when your house was complete. “All right looks like all we need are the beds and some chests to fill the space. Let’s go hunt some sheep.”

A few minutes past, “I’m changing the bed color do you want me to do your too? Yeah, I have yellow dye. Okay cool. Here you go let me drop it for you.”

Xiao tilted his chair away from the pc and and eyes you with a piercing glare on his face. He saw you drop the yellow bed and then the rando put it right next to yours and laid down.

You didn’t bat an eye, simply laying down right beside him as your screen dimmed some.

“Babe I think you have had enough Minecraft for tonight.” Xiao said, turning off the Tv and leading you to the room. “Come on, bedtime.”

You giggled a bit as you were led of the bed and snuggled down against Xiao. “Only I get to lay in bed with you.”

You didn’t have to see his face, his pout was prevalent in his voice.

“Is someone jealous? It’s just a game.” You reassured him, smiling into the dark room and his adorable expression.

“Yes, you should only lay beside me in bed, in real life and virtual reality.”

You yawned, “I’ll be sure to remember that. Wouldn’t want my cute boyfriend upset.”

You planned to tell him about Aether’s role in the prank but snuggling up to your warm and soft boyfriend drifted you off to sleep.

He wasn’t pleased to find out about the prank when Lumine spilled the beans while y’all were out getting coffee before college classes.

#genshin impact #x reader #genshin impact x reader #gamer bf xiao #xiao x gn reader #xiao genshin #genshin fluff #xiao x reader

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sprout-fics · 10 months

Note

If Thursday Thots are going on you fed us so well last time, any more horny, smutty, or even just your headcanons to continue with Horangi? You’ve got me falling for that man more than last time which I both hate and love you for.

I think Horangi fits the type as the 'Calm' boyfriend

No honestly I think because of his background (being chased by debt collectors/mafia/gangs) He's been forced to practice at keeping a low profile

So he often is more muted, quieter, more reserved than you. He wears a mask even in public, because it hides his identity and puts you in less danger

If he can avoid being noticed by people who want to harm him, to harm you, then he'll do whatever it takes

That being said, he is fairly affectionate. He does like holding your hand, likes having you close by

He's also very defensive over you. Not jealous persay...just watchful

He's lived a life examining threats from all angles, so putting you in danger is the thing he fears the most

That being said, he has a healthy amount of respect if you work alongside him

He is definitely the type to help you further your skills. He'll spar with you, time you at the shooting range, provide support for bomb diffusion tests

He is very supportive if only because he's just protective

And it's in a way that is quiet, a little more subtle, but allows you to know his heart anyways

I personally think he'd do best with a bubbly, outgoing type

The 'Extrovert adopts the introvert' type

I think also, in private, he's rather intimate with you. He'll pull down his mask, let you see his eyes, won't hesitate to remind you just how precious you are, that he can't lose you

Despite the fact that in mor sexual settings, where he loves to tease and be perhaps just a little sadistic, he cares very deeply for you, and given the chance he will absolutely sacrifice himself to see you safe

#horangi #horangi x reader #horangi x you #thursday night thots

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13o7billionyearsinthemaking · 4 months

Text

As now the rat is free for all. My revenge is too...

Make them into a character again! Muhahahaha!

In the cartoon parallel of Long Beach California Dockside. Mick works 9 to 5 with his steamboat under Captain Pete's terms, has a passion for music having several attempts to run from his job to write a song with Minn on the beach.

Mick is selectively mute occasionally shouting profanities in sudden inconveniences(very original) but you'll more likely find him whistling. Will cause problems on purpose due to boredom which makes it hard for him to keep a job.

Oswald is a lifeguard who was formally acquaintances with Pete when in one train ride later, split paths. Both Minn and Oswald hungout when Mick isn't around.

Minn is an aspiring songwriter that regularly goes to the beach for inspiration. She was self taught and crafted her own ukulele. Mick helps as a secondary writer and Oswald gives criticism on ways to refine her pieces

Julius manages a small inn that's one lawsuit from bankruptcy. Often reminisce his time with Alice, Julius first met Pete when he was a collector desperate ehough to take Alice's puzzle which made the two throw hands. Has a parrot to spy on Pete's business to find ways to cause his downfall.

Eventually Mick, Oswald and Julius found out they all got beef with Pete and bond by that fact eventually becoming tight kit

Oh and let me just-

#mickey mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #julius the cat #peg leg pete #pete the cat #steamboat willie #public domain #ratkingtoons #free from cooperate hands he be #theyre ours #my art #not affiliated with company

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noodle-bin · 3 months

Text

Dust Collector

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader

summary: short drabble about leon and reader wallowing in their substances about how life just never gets better.

tags: angst, substance abuse, alcoholism, devil’s lettuce, reader smokes, heavily self-projected

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Smoking again?” A deep voice called out from behind you. You knew it was Leon’s. You let the smoke fall from your lips as you stared out at the city lights, legs dangling from the balcony.

“Hey, Leon.”

He sat beside you, and you noticed the drink in his hand.

“Drinking again?” The edges of your lips curving only slightly, amused at your own joke.

“Yeah. Seems that way, doesn’t it?” His words fell out a little slurred and slow. Not much different from your own absent mind.

“Talk to me,” Leon said before taking a swig of the flask in his hand. You could barely see the outline of his face and the movement in his throat as he swallowed the booze.

“Hm,” you hummed. “It’s an easy escape. I shouldn’t even be sad, I’m not living through some sort of severe trauma. It’s easy to understand yours,” you nudged your head in the direction of his flask.

You felt his hand gently touch your cheek, tracing your eyelids and the shape of your lips.

“Everyone’s issues are just as serious as anybody else’s. Even if others 'have it worse'.” Leon made quotation marks in the air.

“Yeah well, I can’t explain why I’m sad. It all comes back from nowhere. Seizing in my chest. It won’t leave, and I’d rather feel nothing than feel these waves of pain,” you say before taking another hit of your pen. It was easy. Getting high. In moments like these when the world was becoming too much and it feels like you’ve been trying to wade through a never-ending pool of mud. You didn’t want to feel much of anything anymore. What was worse is that you also lived with the contrast of it. It was scary when you finally snapped back into reality and craved the exact opposite of being numb. Putting yourself into dangerous situations to feel something. It was a never-ending cycle. Running from your feelings, muting them down, and next you’re fighting to feel anything except what you felt.

“Hey,” Leon called out. He leaned in closer to you, sitting flush to you now with your thighs touching. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I know it’s scary and never ending. I’ve been there.” Leon tried to comfort you, but his own slurred actions were just as helpful as your absent high. “I’m still there.” Leon whispered, swishing the drink in his flask. “It won’t leave me alone either.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, staring out at the lights in the city. It was comforting, the both of you here at rock bottom. It felt like the night could continue forever, and this high can continue forever, and it’d all be okay.

“Talk to me,” you murmured before taking another hit, letting the smoke go down your throat.

“I’ve lived through hell.” Leon started. “I’ve seen so much and lost so much. It feels like it’s a past I can’t escape,” Leon sighed. His body felt so heavy. “I can’t sleep. I only ever get nightmares. It feels like I’m on the edge constantly.”

You held his hand.

“It’s so much easier to numb the past like this,” his voice was back to a whisper again. You looked at him through sleepy eyes, seeing his own absent mind.

“We have each other,” you say simply.

And it was true. The both of you could mediate the pain like this. Let the waves of nothing envelope you over and over, a sweet escape from hell in your mind. So the both of you stayed like this. He passed you his flask and you passed him your pen, the both of you succumbing to the numbness of it all.

It was easier than facing whatever mental hell you had to go through.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #vendetta leon #vendetta leon kennedy

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privitivium · 3 months

Text

team bucciarati w/ a crush whose hobby is collecting perfume bottles :3

these count as headcanons i think! ㅡ reader can be read as gender neutral. i love randomness frfr.. sorry for any mistakes :p

niche interests ftw!!!

hints of nsfw elements - notably mista's;; edging :p

bruno;;

ㅡwould be the type to thoroughly interact with you over ur hobby - giving you a firm allowance for your necessaties paired with your own pocket money and excitedly listening when you offer to showcase and then reviewing them with you - wanting to find a new one for himself from your collection perhaps? if you would let him of course.. he was eager to find one in your collection that reminds him of you, wanting to wear your scent on his clothes,,

ㅡoften reminding you everytime you come home with a new perfume in a pretty bag filled with tissue paper, not to give yourself headaches.. and when you accidentaly do so, he is quick to give remedies and scold softly,,

ㅡhe'd compare his interest with yours, a collector of fancy intricately made spoons embarrassingly he'd admit,, something you'd bond over - collecting antique perfumes and spoons together with ur shared downtime, hanging out in every other antique store and often exploring markets to find something that would appeal to the others..

ㅡanyway - showcasing your collection to bruno, excitedly as you spread them out - commenting on which ones don't give you headaches and offering them to bruno, even maybe,, gifting him one of yours,, a declaration of love?!?!

ㅡ“this one.. it smells like your natural smell...” you mentioned mutely - observing the simple, baby blue stained vase bottle before popping the cap, giving it a whiff and letting out a soft sigh - it smelled like him? “I use it frequently because it smells so good..” you continued thoughtlessly, humming in satisfaction - too caught up in admiring the bottle..

ㅡ“Really? Frequently, huh?” Did you unknowingly out yourself?? maybe. but did it make his heart throb uncomfortably with a disgusting amount of flourishing affection for you? yeah. “If i may, could I explore your collection further?” an idea of using a perfume of yours that smelled akin to you - your natural musk that you coat in perfume that smelled like him.. you offhandedly remark that some bottles may be empty, but the remnants of the scents still linger and excitedly direct him to your shelf dedicated to your collection..

leone;;

ㅡhe was surprisingly unaware about your interestㅡ! news to you since you thought everyone knew, considering the countless random perfume bottles that you occasionally leave out rather carelessly trying to organize something else other than your bottles.. which you only really collect for the bottles rather than scent. you figure he thought they were trish's..?

- he was curious about where you went during your downtime and what exactly you did with your funds.. He wasn’t one to snoop, glancing in ur room like a parent checking on their kid to see if they were alright - no trace of you besides your natural smell.. He opened the door a bit wider - truly, he was not one to snoop actively, but the glint caught his eye,, ur perfume cabinet !! no wonder you smell so good, huh?? He sniffed the one on your bedside - the one that you wore. It smelled exactly like you.. hmm, oh, what he could do with this..? he spritzes his wrists and neck.

ㅡ"the smell of pungent perfumes gives me headaches.” he had waved off the invitation without giving it any thought, despite his heartbeat speeding up at your polite offering hum - did he just,, reject you,,? on accident?! you, understanding, exit stage-left and get ready to leave as you had originally planned.. ugh-!!

ㅡquickly, he goes over everything with bruno, making sure there isn't anything going on, double checking before looking for and finding you about to make your move out of the base - he saunters up to your side, saying something about going in pairs no matter where. excitedly, you lead him to a new antique store that you had been meaning to find the time to go into, hidden amongst the brighter, livelier stores.. what a find!

ㅡhit with the smell of old furniture and .. old carpet. a radio playing Dalida, a song he couldn't recognize except the singer herself.. It was like they sang to you, having immediately navigating your way through the antique store with no trouble and finding the protected bottles among other delicate trinkets. You were so gentle, so soft while handling the glass bottles and observing the intricate designs.. how did he not know?? He knew everything about you practically - but not this?? He curses himself, planning to be more engaged in your interests, or hobbies rather...

ㅡyou direct him elsewhere in the familiar smelling store, merely admiring other oddities and old clothes, before purchasing and leaving with a lavender stained glas bottle with notes that reminded him of a common men's cologne, that reminded you of him, as you told him - saying something along the lines of “wanting to get some that reminds me of the gang!” all cheerfully.. Hrm. he’d much rather you focus on all the aspects of ur hobby that remind you of him,,

mista;;

ㅡhe knew of your hobby,, he just didnt know it was to the extent of having a huge, beautiful shelf dedicated to holding many bottles in ur room - he doesn't pay attention to much else besides daydreaming while breathing in the scent of you while hanging out in your room.. before you invited him out with you in front of the gang. the others, notably narancia and fugo, saying something about the way it'll help the way mista smells - saying it's good that he's going with you to a store dedicated to fragrances..

ㅡto subject himself to such a boring activity - standing near you, bored, as you survey the shelves filled with odd trinkets of an antique store that almost smelled like.. something familiar.. he just couldnt put his finger on it! was this what you did everytime you went to find new additions to your collection?? just stand around, feeling the bottles and practically looking at them with a fucking magnifying glass - it seems like you couldnt care less about the scents. the dedication..

ㅡ “god, look at this-!” you exclaimed, whispering loudly and trembling with excitement, and mista quickly looks around, startled, to see the cause of your boutㅡbefore his gaze falls onto your hands, gently holding a rotund glass bottle with intricate leaves ( insect wings? ) etched onto it with a swan.. on the cap..? “isn't this beautiful?? my gosh - and it's not even that much..”

ㅡmista can't really see the appeal of actually taking time to go into these types of stores and specifically finding perfume bottles - empty or not.. but they appeal to you, and he thinks that's all that really matters as well as spending time with you,, hovering over you uncomfortably close as you take the time to admire the intricately designed and vintage glass bottles, taking a whiff and offering to waft it to him so he doesn't get a headache..

ㅡnsfw;; every time you stood near him - merely passing by, he couldn't get enough of the scent that wafted to his nostrils.. and besides, your shirt was loosing its’ scent anyway! ultimately taking it up a knotch and going into your room to steal a few spritzes of the perfume you wear, ( having a hard time because you had a few bottles in your nightstand for decoration - him, having to go through all three hurriedly sniffing..)

-spraying an article of clothing he stole from your room.. a miscellaneous item really, one that he was sure you wouldn't care about, with the use of sex pistols,, hushing them as they slowly pull the article into his hands from your room in the darkness of the hallway - it ultimately ends up with him edging himself while huffing the faint scent of the perfume from ur shirt,, before he can't hold it anymore - the smell and knowing you wore this shirt gets to him, releasing all over himself. hmggh

narancia;;

ㅡengrossed in your hobby as you were. you weren't worried that he would break something - having enough trust in him to treat your things with care. which he does-! utterly, completely focused and firmly holding whatever it is hes holding as he admires the designs along the various perfume and cologne bottles that admittedly look old and in his opinion, did not fit you.. but to each their own, he supposes..

ㅡoften indulges himself in smelling them... you offer him a strip of paper with a scent of the day - every day. it's his favorite! sometimes waiting by your door or taking it upon himself to sit in your room for your awakening just to inquire about it.. he wants to be more appealing to you, and what better way than engaging in ur hobby??

ㅡgives himself headaches just from trying to smell all of ur bottles, some that may not even have the fragrance inside,, merely the remnants. you scold him often,, telling him that you don't want him to hurt himself over merely smelling them, before giving him the ones that aren't prone to giving you headaches - so why would they give narancia headaches??

ㅡexperimentally inhaling the fragrance deeply - unconcerned with himself - grinning giddily as he realizes it smells like arancia.. it must remind you of him, no?? why have so many that smell like orange if not?? dont tell him its because the bottles are pretty, he knows the truth.. filled with an overbearing amount of affection, and comes off a little too forward as he continues conversation, questioning you about your favorites which you inevitably tell him your favorite bottle and offering him your favorite scent by saying “smell.” and offering your wrist to himㅡshowcasing mint, petitgrain and inevitably orange..

ㅡusing a bit of his allowance to surprise you with a men's cologne that was sure to earn him a hug, no?? it was a little plain, yeah, sure but its the thought that counts - Fugo and Bruno told him so. and of course you were ecstatic,, a little. happy to have a new addition to your shelves, you suppose - asking where he got it from since it was nothing like you ever smelled besides on Narancia,,

ㅡobviously he would want you to have one that he uses. just to have. amiright??? just to have.. and occasionally spray ur room with it so you would instinctively think of him… no other reaosn. maybe

fugo;;

ㅡperfumes.. it was definitely interesting to him. he'd think about it, often, and admire the cabinet full of the bottles - some empty, all just for show - except one, you would show him, it was a smaller case, in the shape of a key. “this one.. it smells so good..” you offer the lid to him, and he finds it to be the scent of you he'd become infatuated with. what was that.. notes of coffee beans, almond, and sea salt, is what he identifies right off the bat.. hrrmmm,,, god if he could just bury his nose in ur neck and inhale and hold you into his chest,, still, he doesnt know if you feel the same way. he would have to hold himself and comfort himself with daydreams while biting on your pencil.

ㅡdespite him often enjoying you talk about your thoughts on every bittle you have, he found that you enjoyed when he would review them.. giving each one his honest thoughts and rating,,.. picking up a small bottle with pearl-like dots decorating the edges with a burgundy red fragrance sloshing around.. “that one.. just reminds me of strawberries. and well.. you know.. strawberries remind me of you in general. but this scent reminds me of youㅡ!!” you would tell him, trembling in excitement as you gently grab a small vial - reminiscent of the victorian tear catcher..

ㅡhe'd gently complain after smelling all the ones you offered him, you, more happy than anything to share your interest with fugo, which he could see as plain as day and couldnt help but feel giddy himself - coming off as an angry flustered more than shy as he would like,,

ㅡyou would often invite him out, fugo gladly joining you - eager to spend time with you however you wanna spend it, and offering to lead you to antique stores of his own, secretly excited to show off to you now that he's much aware about your interests.. he remembers which ones have perfumes and colognes at the like - or merely glass bottles which you were eager to welcome into your collection..

giorno;;

ㅡyou were the one that actually welcomed him with welcome arms besides mother bruno, and after a while he found himself sticking close to you simply due to your kind nature and rather open personality.. he had actual feelings for you that he had to acknowledge, and he'd indefinitely work up the nerve to confess, but in the meantime, he'd dedicate his free time to spending it with you no matter what.. no matter if it was simply organizing, listening to you talk, or trying to mediate you after worrying about broken glass after one slipped from your hands one without fragrance - thankfully. yet, you cried.. he was full of merriment, happy to console and hold you, patting you on the back a little lamely..

ㅡfinds the overbearing smell a little repugnant after willing himself to sniff several - and tells you this, earnestly in a polite manner. “i don't know how you do it..” he would joke lamely, a smile painted on his lips. “i admire the bottles.. that's all there is to it. only one will i actually use..” you would retort with a hint of bitterness to his surprise.. what's with the hostility???

ㅡultimately, saving up a bit of his money just to gift you a gorgeous looking bottle he found hidden in an antique store that he found around the outskirts - one that looked similar to your collection already with curves and intricate divots - one he was sure that would gain your affection??..

post- ( everyone lives :3 )

ㅡproud of himself, now that he has the resources to truly fund your hobby.. ultimately wants to impress ‐ kinda like a peacock! trying to flaunt himself to you almost while simultaneously running passione.. dedicating a room full of shelves, protected to the fullest with bolted cabinets that were sure not to tremble with footsteps nearby..

ㅡoften having himself accompany you to these antique stores you love so much - asking why exactly you don't want the most recent fragrance and you have to carefully remind him that it's the bottles that appeal to you, worn and used delicately and now passed onto you by fate :p

ㅡhas a few people go raid a few stores that he's sure you have not explored, buying them out and surprising you with a shelves full of new additions to which you excitedly admire the room.. a little inconvenient, but at the same time it's so wonderful,, how could you not fall for him, right??? right.,,,???

i feel so awkward tagging hnnghhgmm

#jojo =͟͟͞͞★#jjba x male reader #male reader #x male reader #bruno bucciarati x male reader #leone abbachio x male reader #mista x male reader #pannacotta fugo x male reader #giorno giovanna x male reader #guido mista x male reader #narancia ghirga x male reader #jjba x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure x male reader

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the-ninjago-historian · 3 months

Text

New Article! Scrapped Season Concepts!

We've all heard of the scrapped Cowboy inspired season of Ninjago. But few know there was many more ideas that were ultimately scrapped! Today, we'll be looking at this scrapped season, along with many other abandoned concepts from Lego Ninjago artist Matt Betteker! And try to unlock some of the mystery behind them! Let's go!

1: The Dawn Of The Devourers, Lloyd vs Pancho, The Race, and Adventure

Clearly inspired by Western movies, this epic adventure seems it would have pitted the Ninjas against a Great Devourer riding band of outlaws, (One of which is named, Pancho) in search of perhaps some sort of treasure! This concept is extremely interesting, since it shows the existence of multiple Great Devourers! One of which looks a bit like Wojira! This season also seems to take inspiration from Incan civilizations, going by the jungle tomb-like building in the concept Adventure, and the Incan style Pyramids in the background of Lloyd Vs Pancho. Overall, this seems like it would have been an epic season. I can only imagine what the concept titled, The Race would have looked like animated. I honestly wonder why it was scrapped.

(I love the little detail of Cole manning the guns and Wu driving the wagon. Good father and son teamwork. Lol.😂)

2: The Lightning Temple and ThunderTown

What are these concepts for? Who's to say. It could be a very early version of Prime Empire. Going by the circuitry style painting on the temple in the concept called Temple Of Lightning, and the overall lightning themed atmosphere. OR, it could be an early design for the Island of the Keepers. Whose to say? But either way, it's a really cool concept and I'd love if they could reuse it some day.

3: Clockwork, The Ancient Ones Return, The Gold Army Meets Fibo, and The Gold Collector

This concept looked like Crystalized, Master Of The Mountain, and Hands Of Time all rolled into one!!! The gold and white color palette seems incredibly similar to Shintaro's. Meanwhile, clockwork patterns and style are reminiscent to Hands Of Time! And last but not least, the floating island looks almost like the Crystal Kings from Crystalized! This season would have had all sorts of crazy stuff! The main villain, (Known as The Gold Collector,) seems to have been very interested in two things. Gold, and Clockwork stuff. And it seems he or she would have been collecting gold to perhaps bring back the Golden Army shown in the artwork The Gold Army Meets Fibo. Who is this mysterious Fibo? A time traveler perhaps? Look at the flowing swirls of clock styled energy surrounding him. Very intriguing.🤔

If Ninjago had a steampunk inspired season like this, I would have been thrilled! It's to bad this concept was abandoned. But I would love to see what fans do with it!

4: Hunt For The Lava Hammer, and Cole Lava Blade

An early version of Master Of The Mountain, or something else? Going by the mining style machines and side characters in the backgrounds of both these pieces, this could have been a mining themed season centered around Cole. Even Cole's outfit is designed to look like a mining or construction outfit. Almost reminiscent to Lego City's Volcano Explorers line.

5: The Dragons Tribe, and Hunt For The Elemental Shurikens

There isn't much to say about this one. As we can't really take many clues from it. But going by Lloyd's outfit, and the lush green plant life, I believe this could be an early version of The Island. What really interests me is these Elemental Shurikens. What are they? Unfortunately, it doesn't say. But I'm sure they would have been interesting! Also, look at that dragon guarding her nest. The patterns on her are beautiful!

6: The Journey of Lloyd

All these piece were under one title. The Journey Of Lloyd. How mysterious.👀 So what is this collection of concepts? Just by looking, you can tell this was no ordinary season. The muted color palette and the more mature atmosphere all seem to point to something bigger. Was this perhaps a scrapped version of the Ninjago Movie? Or something else? Perhaps a Lloyd centric story, in which he goes an epic adventure all his own! Whatever's is was, it looks amazing. The love how much more mature and darker it feels. Surely a concept worthy of a nail biting, heart racing, action movie!

7: The Dragon Mask

A single concept amongst the others caught my eye. It didn't seem to fit with any of the other concept seasons. What is this dragon mask? It could be an early version of the Dragon Forms seen in Crystalized. But whose to say? Still, a very striking design! Feel free to comment your theories about it!

Want to look at the artwork straight from Matt Betteker himself? Here's his Art Station account with the exact art pieces we went over today.

Thanks for reading everyone!

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago lego #ink dragon #concept art #Matt Betteker #links #ninjago crystalized #ninjago the island #ninjago prime empire #ninjago hands of time #the lego ninjago movie #ninjago movie #lego ninjago movie #ninjago master of the mountain #trivia #Inky's Articles #scrapped concepts

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respectthepetty · 4 months

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Pit Babe Colors Ep. 5

Because I have asks in my inbox about the color coding in Pit Babe even though I don't want to watch it, I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are. I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, I'm going to take off the captions.

How could I forget we were in "Disco Inferno" at the end of the last episode?! Babe looks just as confused as I am that Charles ran his ass out on that track. Where are the professionals? Medics, where u b?

Nice to see everyone wearing blue just in time to prove they did not sabotage the car.

Get your grubby paws off of Barbie, you color faker!

Because I hate Charles, everything he does just comes off very creepy. Like he is trying to have Babe all to himself, like a creepy collector of precious superpower kids, but he only wants Babe.

It's Whiny Winifred in the red Chicago Bulls jacket being annoying per usual.

I don't care what is being said. Whiny Winifred did not sabotage that car. He isn't smart enough for that. But I'm very curious what Kim's superpower is because he is constantly seen as the bigger presence in their arguments. He may be small, but he is mighty.

TRUST NONE OF THEM, ALAN! As usual, Charles conveniently arrives to save the day even though Dean saw Jeffrey messing with the car. This is mine and Dean's villain origin story. (Sonic, get your colors together, kid!)

Alan, don't save him! He don't want to be saved! He can see the future, but couldn't see himself getting caught? Go back to superpower school, Jeffrey! YOU SUCK!

I should be on Jeffrey's side because he is driving a blue vehicle, but he had to put "Home" into the GPS, and I can't trust a boy who doesn't know how to get back to the apartment he shares with Charlie . . . SINCE HE ISN'T GOING THERE! I guess you really are going back to superpower school since you are probably headed to Big Red's house, you LIAR!

Couldn't be bothered to wear blue for two episodes, and now you got nothing but blue, huh, Waymond? Odd choice, sir.

Charles is everywhere at all times. I think Waymond can control emotions, which is why he touches Babe, but I think Charles is mind controlling Babe. He is always in Babe's bubble! Back tf up, bruh.

And we're back to black because you are devoid of emotions since you are controlling everyone else's. I see you and Charles for the superpower manipulators you are.

Kimberly, in a garage full of blues, I only trust your red ass. Kimlock Holmes is gonna solve this case because that's what Kims do!

Are you conflicted now, Jeffrey? In the red and the blue because you know you fucked up and hurt Alan with your lies?

Pete is wearing blue. I trust this pretty man with my life.

I have believed that superpowers come from the hands for two episodes now. Waymond is always touching Babe then Babe looks happier. Charles is always touching Babe, then Babe concedes. So Peter not immediately taking Waymond's hand gives me faith that Peter KNOWS what is up because I think he has superpowers too!

Kenta, you do not have superpowers which is why he treats you like this. Kimberly is gonna love the fuck out of you though. All you have to do is murder your boss.

Did Big Red do this to you? MURDER YOUR SHITTY BOSS! You don't need a superpower for that. I'm rooting for you, hon.

My man has the blue blazer and the blue drink. He is proving his loyalty, and I couldn't love him more. This is how you prove you're trustworthy. You ease into the color. Unlike the Treacherous Trio: Charles, Jeffrey, and Waymond.

Barbie, I need you to pay attention. That hand on your arm is controlling you. Your powers are gone because Charles is fucking with your brain so he can take your racing spot. Don't let that lying bastard touch you!

WHY ARE YOU LETTING HIM TOUCH YOU?! I know he is controlling your mind, but you gotta stop letting him touch you. Go two days without his touch and see how much clearer you'll start thing. You took him to you and Way's spot. I'm insulted for Way because this was sacred, yet Charles gets everything he wants . . . *mind control*

Alan, you wear a lot of green, and I love you for that. You are not in this red vs. blue bullshit. You are in a league of your own. I don't think you have superpowers, but if you did, it would be stealing hearts because I'm ready to lay my life down on the line for you, sir. You're perfect.

Sonic REFUSES to get his shit together. WEAR BLUE ALREADY, DAMN! But also, Decanus is not pleased with whatever is happening. Villain Era loading.

This scene would be adorable if Charles wasn't a lying pos.

Decanus, I know you are going to be with Whiny Winifred, so I'm gonna just call this game, and say you lose.

Wait, A SECRET THIRD OPTION?! Kim Possible, is that you player?!

Decanus, you are getting pushed by Alan next week, so I know you done fucked up. Sonic, still be doing wild color things next week too.

Alan, do not suck up to that child. He may be wearing blue in that moment, but his heart is red and not in the good way.

I still ONLY trust Alan, but he is falling for that lying kid, so he might slip in rankings next week, but Kimlock Holmes and Pete the Magic Dragon did no wrong this week, so my trust remains intact for them. I cannot wait until Kenta gets an ounce of love from Kimberly and it turns his entire life around (KILL YOUR SHITTY BOSS!).

Barbie is being mentally and emotionally controlled by Charles and Waymond, so here's hoping this show gets kinky, ties people's hands up, and sees just how powerful they are without the gift of touch.

Couldn't emotionally manipulate Peter, now could you, Waymond?

What is your superpower?

#pit babe #pit babe the series #the colors mean things #and they will guide me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #episode 5 #Peter is the hero here #What is his power?#The gift of common sense #trust no one #except Alan #and possibly Kim #and Pete

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lollytea · 1 year

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one day Hunter isn't going to be flustered and tongue-tied around Willow for at least a solid 70% of their interactions like he is now and he's gonna be all comfy and assured in his relationship with her and he's gonna be able to joke and tease and flirt with her without melting into a puddle and he's gonna be like "oh. oh this is REALLY nice, actually."

I have this vision of Hunter and Willow's current dynamic in my head and it revolves around this idea that I find really sweet. And it's like.

Though Hunter still doesn't have the words to articulate how he feels about Willow just yet and he's rendered near mute whenever she flirts with him, he's not exactly beating himself up over it. Hunter doesn't feel pressured to force himself out of his comfort zone and start awkwardly flirting before he's ready to do so. Because Willow never makes him feel like he has to.

She understands that this is all a bit much for Hunter to take in so her flirting is never framed in a way where she's pushing him to respond. If anything, she just does it cuz she likes him. Cuz she likes being sweet to him and she thinks his blush is cute and she genuinely thinks he's so cool and wants to let him know. And it gets him all smiley and giggly and she loves it. It's also gradually building his confidance. But on top of all that, it's just a passive little reminder like "Hey. I'm not going anywhere. Whenever you're ready to say something, I'll be right here." Cuz she knows he likes her too and won't make him feel like she's ever losing interest and he'll miss his chance if he doesn't hurry up.

I dunno. It's so cute to me. Willow doting on him and Hunter unable to utter a single word but they both clearly like it and know the other likes it too. They have an understanding. For the moment, this is just what works for them.

But one day, when the time comes, something is gonna slip out of Hunter's mouth. And once he realizes that if he really puts his mind to it, ohhh he could flirt too!!! He could!!!

I could see it happening after all the Collector stuff is handled. Its been a few months. The dust has settled. Things are beginning to return to some semblance of normalcy. They're not really dating but they're also....not not dating, yknow? It's a slow build. Of course Willow does the flirting and the affectionate little touches and makes it very obvious she's interested. But she's waiting until Hunter is a little more comfortable in their interactions before they progress things any further.

She's walking him home (She's very chivalrous. Makes Hunter swoon.) and they're lingering at his doorstep. Willow is laying the flirting on thick and Hunter is eating it up, as always. Everything is the status quo, until Willow, admiring the way the sunlight catches flecks of gold in his warm brown irises, says:

"I really like your eyes."

And Hunter, whose brain has completely tapped out from the overload of her attention and the hook of her pretty smile, replies, as naturally as a heartbeat.

"Thanks. My eyes really like you too."

And Willow, sweet Willow, has a brief flash where she completely malfunctions. She freezes, eyes blowing wide, only for her lashes to begin fluttering in discombobulation.

Hunter, realizing what he just said, is not any less stunned. However he can't even say anything to do damage control as the impact of his own skin burning mortification sucks the oxygen out of his lungs and all he can manage is a strangled little squeak.

Willow seems too inside her own head to notice.

"Oh!" She exclaims. "Um. Thank you."

Wriggling where she stands, she clasps her fidgety hands together as a slight pinkish hue blossoms on her cheeks. Eyes jump to the ground as her features wrestle to keep her smile moderate but it's impossible. That giddy grin bursts her features apart. She glows.

And Hunter sees every moment of it.

She liked that, he realizes. She liked that a lot.

Willow raises her head, still looking dizzingly happy. But she's far bolder than he is because she looks him dead in the eye and makes a remark, struggling to curb the breathy giggles in her voice "That was...very smooth of you, Hunter."

Smooth.

Smooth like Willow.

He can be smooth like Willow.

There is literally nothing stopping him.

They bid eachother a bit of clumsy but thoroughly smitten goodbye and Hunter rushes upstairs, leaps face down into his bed and nearly breaks the thing apart from the manic kicking of his legs. The muffled noises he makes into his pillow got dogs the next realm over going bananas.

He tries to call Gus because he's got to tell somebody but once he's like "You'll never guess what just happened!! You'll never guess what I just did!!!!" he realizes that now he's gotten this far, he actually has to recount what just happened. With words. So instead he's like "actuallynevermindgottago!!" and hangs up.

But anyway. ANYWAY. That was my little origin story of Hunter realizing that he is capable of opening his mouth and unleashing some magic that he thought just Willow could do. Sure, she's a lot better at it. But he'll learn.

He does learn.

It takes a little time but once he's found his footing in this whole "taking initiative" thing, it turns out that Hunter can be a relentless flirt. If the mood strikes him. There was apparently a lot of flirty potential just gathering dust in that whole Golden Guard persona and now he finally has somewhere to channel it.

There's a girlfriend to be a nuisance to.

"Quit it!!" Willow attempts to sound vexed but she's utterly transparent to Hunter. She lunges around the flyer derby field, making another failed grab for him, but he's a bastard who can scramble his molecules.

"Cmon, Captain...." He teases with an antagonistic cackle. "If you really like me, you'd try a little harder to keep me in place."

Through burst after burst of glitchy jumps, Hunter is snapping all around Willow. He's at her side, he's behind her, he's flicking her hair, he's poking her cheeks, he's blowing in her ear, he's tweaking her hips, he's chanting teases at her. He's being a general menace and Willow wants to say she can't stand it.

She wants to.

"What's that smile for, huh~?" His voice softly singsongs, the swell of his lip just barely brushing against her ear and Willow seizes up. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you liked this."

Glitch.

He's at her other ear now. "Is it because of all the touching?"

Glitch.

He's directly in front of her. "Is that why--uMPH!!"

Willow dives forward and snatches him in her arms.

"Gotcha!!" She announces, grinning victoriously.

The unpredictability of his less than solid body left her having to grab him suddenly with little thought for the means to go about it. As a result, Willow is currently squeezing Hunter around the waist.

It works out though. As Willow is well aware, he really likes it when she holds his waist.

Hunter laughs at the intensity of her triumphant expression. "Well done." He relents. "You got me."

There's an infamous smugness that contorts his smile into a challenging smirk. "But now that you got me...what will you do with me?"

Willow's own smile twists evilly. Her grip tightens slightly. "Maybe I'll squeeze you like my life depended on it. Pop ya like a balloon."

Hunter snorts at the threat. "I guess you could...." He croons.

"Or I could haul you over my head and fling you across the field." Willow suggests. "See how far I can send ya."

He hums, delighted by the audacity. "You could..."

Willow's evil smile borders on maniacal. Her grip on him loosens, hands sliding to place themselves gently against his hips. She then digs her thumbs into them slightly, like a warning.

Hunter goes rigid, his lips visibly twitching.

"I could tickle ya."

A threat like that makes him crack a little and the dorkiness softens the edges of his sharp smile.

"You could..." He says slowly. Cautiously. His hands have ventured over hers, a feathery brush of fingers against her backhand first, before he captures them firmly and holds them in place before she can do anything evil.

Willow pouts, which makes Hunter laugh again. His attempts to be lofty fail spectacularly, as it's not his teasing laugh. Sincerity bleeds from the sound, all crinkled eyes and adorable snorts.

"I could kiss you~" Says Willow as her final threat, doing an excellent impersonation of his musically lilting teasing voice.

Hunter's eyebrows lift, pleasantly surprised. And if that's not enough of an indicator that she's got this smooch in the bag, she pushes her palms against his hips and reels him in a little closer.

His step stutters as he's pulled into her chest. This should secure the deal. He loves hands on his hips. He loves being manhandled just a little.

To Willow's delight, she even makes him blush a bit. He doesn't do that often anymore but she can still stain his skin red every once in a while if she's dedicated enough.

"You could..." Hunter murmurs and he's already stooped his upper body to her level, only to find Willow was standing on her tiptoes.

They meet halfway.

Once the warmth settles on her mouth, Willow closes her eyes and she likes the long, lanky hand that spreads itself on her cheek, fingers stroking affectionately across her skin.

This is nice, she decides, and she knows he's been thinking the same thing for quite a while.

#huntlow #im sorry that i didnt entirely stay on topic of what you were talking about #the train of thought this ask led to inflicted a swarm of bees in my brain #i have so much flustered hunter here but there is indeed confidanr hunter too #which is what this ask was about

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bokettochild · 7 months

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@isasan347 your tags on my last post

First of all, you are right, Legend is indeed everything, my man has no chill

Secondly, I feel like you're missing out on what (at least to me) seems the more obvious answer: Little Mermaid Au with Legend as Ariel

Legend is a collector, it's one of his nicknames. he collects things from the world outside of his own, and sometimes within his own. He strays outside of where the goddesses wish however and through pure bad luck gets struck by lightning and lands on a shore where he's found by one of the locals whom he then befriends, falling in love with one of them even.

Link is even a mute in most depictions!

Like, merperson Legend who gathers cool stuff, but dabbles too closely with the human realm and get's cursed as a result (he's not stupid enough to make a deal with a witch). Turned into a human, he ends up on shore for the first time in his life, only to meet a young sailor girl who chases the horizon and whom he once rescued. She doesn't recognize him, but she sees someone in need of help and takes him home. Him being a selective-mute makes communication hard, especially when he's sort of nervous around her anyways because she's so pretty? But hey! There's all sorts of cool things on this Koholint place! And things to do! And maybe being a human isn't so bad? Except trouble comes and some stranger, who looks suspiciously like the person who cursed him, appears and tries to win Marin's affections, even enchanting her in order to do so.

Legend looks into what's happening and learns about magic tomfoolery that's threatening both the land and sea worlds and determines to end it once and for all and take out eth socerer who caused this all and-

I mean, the stories can blend so easily! You don't even have to change much! Just make Legend's life previous to Koholint happen underwater instead of above, and boom! Little Mermaid!

#asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu marin #little mermaid au #i guess?

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randomfoggytiger · 7 months

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X-Files Collector's Edition: S8 Mulder Resurrects to a Miracle

Thanks for @goodshipsmulder for the suggestion~.

Mulder finds out about Scully's pregnancy off-screen between Deadalive and Three Words. What was said? How might that have gone down? These ideas are explored in these fics (and a few extras thrown in because.)

Loose chronological order below~

@agentwhalesong/sadandangstyagent’s (Ao3) Could It Be Any Harder? - Chapter 4

""He doesn’t seem to understand anything, so he just stays there, accepting the love that is pouring out of her.""

Post Deadalive Mulder's groggy questions aren't able to be fully answered before he drifts back to sleep.

Agent L's (mulderscreek)

Duet

""Scully...?"

"Yes, Mulder?"

"Will I be able to play the piano again?"

"Well, Mulder, I...You don't play piano.""

Post Deadalive Mulder hasn't felt the effects of PTSD yet, cracking jokes and willingly reaching to feel his child move.

Wish List

""I want my life back. Sounds selfish for a guy just raised from the dead, I know, but I've never been one to be satisfied with the status quo.""

Post Deadalive Mulder's impatience-- itching to leave and itching for answers-- is soothed by the balm of Scully's presence.

@lyndsaybones’s (Ao3) Oh

""Like a breath. Like a secret wound opening up. He pulls his hand away.""

Post Deadalive Mulder responds to Scully's announcement with an "Oh."

@leiascully's (Ao3) Part of Us (Tumblr)

""He raises her hand to his lips. It’s an effort, but he manages. “I’m here and I’m staying,” he tells her. “What happened while I was gone?""

Post Deadalive Mulder responds to Scully's announcement with an "Oh", take two.

@msrafterdark (Ao3)

Five Sentence Fics (Tumblr Prompt) - Chapter 2

""She was mute for a moment, and while he easily recognized the softness in her eyes, he also noted a slight glimmer of impatience, as though she was insulted by his not believing this miracle belonged to him.""

Post Deadalive Mulder is shocked with the baby's paternity confirmation.

XScribe/Red's (Gossamer, spookyawards_archivist) Alive

""He looked up, confusion and yet a sense of incredible wonderment lighting up his beautiful hazel eyes. He looked at her and she didn't say a word. He shook his head, looked away, looked back at her again. She smiled, and a hot tear fell down her cheek before she could stop it. He reached out and caught it with a finger.

"Scully?" His voice was small, almost boylike, fearful yet hopeful.""

Post Deadalive Mulder wakes, surprised and grateful Scully didn't leave. Both of them tear up at her paternity confirmation.

ScullyLikesScience's He is the Master of His Fate, She is the Captain of Her Soul - Chapter 85

""They stared at each other. Mulder counted backwards in his head. Scully hoped for some kind of positive reaction. They were still silently gazing at one another when the door opened, and Mulder’s physician, Dr. Nelson Lim, entered the room to go over some test results.""

The events of Deadalive unfold, which eventually leads to Mulder waking a second time to a whirlwind of confusion... and it all becomes too much.

@scullys-right-eyebrow-txf/ScullysRightEyebrow's The Only Choice - Chapter 40

""Just as a soft smile appeared on his face, Mulder recognized apprehension in her eyes. His brow furrowed in concern and then he took in her appearance. In that moment every thought in his mind melded into a mass of bewilderment and confusion. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand anything and the fear brought about by his nightmare seemed to crash down on him.""

Post Deadalive Skinner lets the news slip to Mulder; and his death and resurrection and Scully's sudden pregnancy catapult Mulder's PTSD, beginning the cycle of distancing himself.

@alldolleduppink-blog/AllDolledUpPink's Reditum

""I ran every test," she assures him. "I know it's hard to believe, but you are-"

"No," he interrupts her with a shake of his head. "No, I didn't- I wasn't implying that it's not mine. I- why did I leave?""

Post Deadalive Mulder has an immediate and severe PTSD-induced panic attack at the news of his baby; and begins to distance himself from Scully and their child-- terrified he will hurt them both.

Shoshana's

Skin Deep

""Is this real?' Mulder had asked, not certain what to say. Her affirmative response brought a grin to his ashen face, a sparkle to his tired eyes.""

Post Deadalive Mulder is happy about his baby, more worried about what Scully thinks about his scars than her miraculous pregnancy.

After Dinner

""Her unworried countenance told him all he needed to know, all he cared to know at the time.

He'd had worries later, when left alone with his thoughts....

When he was feeling particularly morose one night he imagined she wouldn't need his help at all with the child. That she was humoring him now while he was ill and would be ready to move on once he'd recovered.""

Three Words Mulder and Scully are okay after TLG leave her apartment; and he muses over his worries as they banter their way back to a reestablished relationship.

emmbright/Emma Brightman's (LiveJournal) Low Tide

"""You're really here." She walks toward him, carefully lowering her bulk into the chair and grasping his gray-skinned hand in hers. Her voice holds a note of wonder he's rarely heard before. Invisible men, visions in Buddhist temples, resurrected lovers -- Scully's a tough one to impress.""

Post Deadalive Mulder wakes from a fruitless nightmare of his sister, wanting no visitors but Scully as he plunges back into more.

dee_ayy's Burdened

""It had to be a lie, I decided once they'd left in search of help. A cruel joke.... Maybe Scully hadn't been lying, I had been in a coma, and this woman saying "dead and buried" was some sort of euphemism I wasn't familiar with. It couldn't be literally true, I decided. It just couldn't. It was the only rational explanation that would allow this threat to pass.

And I'd almost managed to convince myself by the time Scully came back.""

Post Deadalive Mulder overhears nurses talking about his resurrection; and the stress of that lie and Scully's pregnancy paralyzes him into numbness... until he sees his apartment.

Erin Blair/Erin M. Blair's Mine

""You know?"

I nodded, looking at her round belly. "I'm very observant, Scully.""

Post Deadalive Mulder tells Scully about the boy in his Amor Fati dream.

greycoupon’s (Ao3, WBM) Baring Fruit

""He was focused on Scully’s face and her hand in his, but not the rest of her. She was just another body in the room. Then one of the nurses asked her to move so they could check his blood pressure and she stood up. He saw all of her.

He saw her very pregnant stomach. For just a minute he couldn’t see or hear and worried he was back on the ship, that this was all a dream.""

Post Deadalive Mulder's eyes adjust enough to notice the obvious; and Scully lays his immediate fears to rest.

ML/ML_is_me’s (Ao3, Gossamer, DW, Invidiosa)

Do You Know?

""Come on, Scully, give me a break. Don't keep me in suspense," I rasp. You're smiling a little more broadly now.

"Well, you asked for it," you tell me, and push away from the bed to stand up awkwardly.""

Post Deadalive Mulder hates that he kept his brain disease a secret; but is so happy when Scully tells him about their baby.

Found Faith and Lost Time

""She's carrying a cardboard box in front of her, perhaps hoping to obscure her burgeoning belly for a few moments longer.

I give her a big smile as she catches my eye. "Hi, Mom," I greet her.

She looks a little crestfallen. "You KNOW? Did you know last night?" she asks me.""

Post Deadalive Skinner keeps vigil by goofily happy Mulder's bedside-- who peeked at Scully before anyone knew he was awake and is endlessly pleased with himself about it.

David Hearne's Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here

""So, Mulder," Langly interrupted. "this is...what?...your third resurrection?"

"Actually, it's my second. Technically."

"Whatever," Frohike said.""

A post Deadalive crackish experience-- TLG and Maggie and Skinner descend upon Mulder and Scully before they can thoroughly talk about their baby, having a grand time and letting him tell off Krycek on the phone.

Donna’s (Gossamer, mulderscreek) Meeting the Other Man

""His lips moved, but no sound emerged. His eyes returned to her stomach. Her hand came up and smoothed the fabric of her maternity top.

"It's not very subtle is it?""

AU-- Post Deadalive Doggett gets Scully to rest and meets Mulder in the hospital. Jealousy is soothed; and Mulder is overjoyed at the baby news.

Far Away, So Close

""The morning after his revival, Mulder woke up not long after Scully. He looked up at her as she stood and stretched by his bedside. He focused first on her face and then drifted lower. Scully could practically see his pupils dilate as they rested on her belly. He said nothing, however, and then the doctors came in, and the poking and prodding and questions began again.""

Three Words Mulder doesn't feel like a hero-- only a very distantly confused left behind. Scully finally tells him about the paternity later.

@admiralty-xfd’s (Ao3) Culmination - Chapter 12

""They stay together like that for a long time, holding each other. Eventually she gets up to check his vitals and the sight of her enormous pregnant belly hits him like a ton of bricks.

How…?

...The machines are going wild and Scully looks panicked. “Mulder?! What’s wrong?” The last thing he sees is her screaming for assistance and a team rushing in to help as the darkness takes him.""

Post Deadalive Mulder is afraid it's all a dream, that his brain disease will kill him, and that the baby isn't his.

theficisoutthere/pen-paper-aliens/PPA 's

post-"deadalive" I NEED to…

""His thoughts were interrupted by a soft twitch near his thigh. It was an odd twitch, more forceful than a shiver, but softer than a hit. Something was kicking against him.""

Mulder's reestablishing relationship is put on pause when he misconstrues Scully's pregnancy as replacement.

44. Puh-lease! ❤️ (Tumblr)

""He didn’t even question her fidelity. As soon as he noticed her bump in the hospital room he softly smiled and said, “So, we’re going to have a baby.” and squeezed her hand when she nodded. He turned his gaze back to the TV above them and the subject was never brought up again.""

Three Words Mulder hasn't mentioned the baby since the hospital until, finally, he and Scully open up about their fears and pain, crying it out together.

Marguerite’s (Ao3) Always Through the Changing

""Mulder's eyes were huge, with an odd shimmer, but he said nothing as he took the offered sip of water. He kept the cool liquid in his mouth for a moment as if savoring a fine wine. When he swallowed, it was the only sound in the room....

"Whoa, Scully. You been eating all my jello?""

Post Deadalive Mulder struggles with jealousy and anger-guilt-depression about Scully's baby as well as Skinner and Doggett's capable and active presence in his absence.

Lapsed_Scholar’s That Day Is Done

""Most people have nine months to come to terms with their impending parenthood, but he already has something of an unusual situation, and he really wishes he had not started the clock missing and dead. How is he supposed to prepare for this? How is he supposed to support her, or care for an entirely new, helpless person when he’s lost the ability to function as himself?""

Mulder, Scully, and Skinner navigate the rough waters of This Is Not Happening, Deadalive, and Three Words.

Diana Alexander’s Distant and Strange

""If he had been told eight years ago that he would be as protective and possessive as he was of her now, he would have thought the idea insane and preposterous besides. Somehow over the years, it had slowly started happening, so that now he couldn't imagine being any other way in regards to her.

At about that time, he was startled out of his own thoughts by a gentle knock on the door before it was pushed open by an extremely pregnant Dana Scully.""

Post Three Words Mulder has false memories of Scully and their baby, struggling to know what was and wasn't real.

@greekowl87’s (Ao3) Fic: Right Where You Belong (Ao3)

""Ever since he woke up in the hospital from his abduction, Mulder stared at the world through a looking glass. He recognized people, places, things, but inevitably, it wasn’t the same thing that he had left months before. So Scully was patient. She visited him every day, brought him new clothes, sneaked in his favorite food so he didn’t have to eat the bland hospital food, and anything to get him to respond to her. Mulder would just smile politely, maybe glance briefly her pregnant abdomen and turn away before she could get a word in.""

Three Words Scully grounds Mulder in reality.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's

ashes and dust

""It takes effort, but he does move, sliding to the other side. The corners of Scully's mouth lifts, just a little, and she stands to climb in behind him. And that's when he sees it: the curve of her belly under her sweater.

Anything he wanted to say catches in his throat, freezes there. She is pregnant.""

Post Deadalive Mulder wakes, shocked at Scully's baby. Life moves too quickly for him to process, let alone sink back into. Fortunately, he and Scully are able to iron out the kinks later.

Unnamed (Alt. Tumblr)

""She tries to tell him early the morning after their reunion, but she can tell he’s already noticed. He’s quieter, won’t meet her eyes. “Mulder, I got my miracle,” she tries, immediately regretting the singular pronoun. She slips her fingers through his, and lifts his heavy hand to press against her abdomen.

“I’m happy for you,” he says, almost devoid of any emotion, and that’s when she feels like she’s lost him again.""

AU-- Scully moved into Mulder's apartment after his death; and can't figure out a way to tell him after he's resurrected.

And Extra Fics I Thought Belonged Here

@settle-down-frohike's (Ao3) Sensory Integration (Tumblr)

""He’s grateful for her restraint, because he can’t handle sudden movements right now. If she were to approach too fast in his direction, he’d end up curled in the fetal position somewhere in a corner, protecting his vital organs. He doesn’t know how he knows this, he just does. He’s like one giant Pavlovian experiment.

Stimulus.

Response.

Repeat.""

Mulder's PTSD starts to ramp up throughout Three Words; but Scully is, as always, there to be his constant in an upside down world.

soverysesual's Kleptomania - Chapter 1

""Uh, Scully, where are all my clothes?”

She could feel her cheeks burn as she realized that she had never brought them back from her apartment.""

Three Words Mulder and Scully have to retrieve some of his things from her apartment; and he is touched she found and utilized his former IVF baby stash.

Michelle Kiefer's Second Wind

""I wonder if Lazarus found reanimation a chilling experience. Did he shiver and pull his burial shroud closer around him? Was he chilled to the core despite Judah's hot sun? Unfortunately, I have no one with whom to compare notes, as old Lazarus is no longer among the living.

Besides, Lazarus was in the tomb, for what-four days? I could do four days standing on my head. Try three months, buddy, and we'll talk.""

Mulder feels the coldness of death always lingering; but finally finds a personalized heater (and pillar of strength) in Scully.

@amplifyme/wonderland/Lydia Bower's Light Don't Sleep

""Ah, Scully," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We got our miracle, didn't we?"

Her breath caught and she faltered as the tears fell. "Yes... yes, we did."

Mulder and Scully slot themselves back together as he sorts through what are and aren't his true memories, one loving interaction at a time. And, of course, every good day must end with a bedtime story.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

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