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itsswritten · 20 days ago

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Cauldron-born | Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word count: 4.1K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 1

A cackle pierced through you as Cressida looked upon you with a devilish glint.

“You believe you are a witch?” Her tone caught you off guard. Her patronisation questioning everything you had ever held to be true. Surely you were? It was the only thing that made some sense. Your brows furrowed tightly as you regarded the woman who had offered you shelter and refuge over the past few years.

Her laughing died down, her beautiful skin perfect by the ruins and spells she’d used for centuries, not displaying a single crease visible upon her flesh.

“Oh child what an easy life this would have been if we were more akin.”

You sat upright with a jolt, the murmuring of a dream— a memory whispering at the corners of your mind. Your heart swelling with the familiarity of someone you missed, despite her disposition, her cruel tone, that mean glint in her eye— you missed her. But as you felt the plush sheets beneath your body you knew you were no longer in the witches cottage at the corners of The Middle.

You had left that plagued land a while ago now.

A soft rap roused you from your thinking. The usual wake up call must have been the noise to stir you from your slumber in the first place, a familiar rumble of a tone behind the oak doors.

“Come in,” you replied softly. Your feet swinging off the side of the bed, as you walked towards the large curtain that hung from the high ceilings to the dark obsidian floor beneath your feet.

It should have been cool to the touch under your toes, but the house had a magical way of ensuring your comfort— always.

You heard the bedroom door swing open, your back to the welcomed guest as your fingers dropped from the luxe curtain fabric you had just pulled, inviting the warmth of the morning sun into your rooms.

“Blessed be my morning star, did you sleep well?” A deep sing-song tone bellowed into the room, a playfulness dancing on his words.

You cringed under the greeting, choosing not to turn to show your disdain at his choice of greeting and nickname. The sun was only just rising, sending splintered beams of light across your bedroom floor and walls.

“Helion, must you greet me in such a way?” He could practically hear the way you rolled your eyes and cringed at his words. You hadn’t turned to him yet, your gaze settling on the tops of the city below that the curtains had just revealed.

The view from your bedroom had changed more frequently in recent years. No longer the welcomed view of your childhood— the farm fields you grew up in, the misty fog that covered the northern part of the continent that you had always found comfort in.

No longer the harsh winding forest, dark trees that looked more like creatures that lurked outside the witches cottage— Cressida’s home— if you could even call it a home. Her den, rooted in The Middle.

No longer the glistening golden rooftops of Day, the sparkling white walls that danced the sunlight off the buildings in a way that made the whole court shimmer.

Instead, the panes of glass showed three mountainous peaks, dusted with snow in the distance and a city below— Velaris, the city of starlight.

Or the city of slumber. You were not well acquainted with the routines of the Night court residents. Them usually rousing from sleep well later into the day. However it did make your mornings quieter.

The auras of people settled in sleep, their noise, their colours dimming as you watched the kaleidoscope of energy dance lazily along to rooftops. It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t so loud.

You winced slightly at the sight, the lights and colours nudging on your mind. Poking and prodding a little harder than they had yesterday. It had been several days since Helion’s spell. A string of wryds to help contain your ability— dim it down, to subdue it, make it more bearable— but the spell was wearing thin.

Ever since that night—that fateful night where you almost left this world— your ability had been at a loss. Something that had always been as easy as breathing, as easy as a crisp night breeze filling your lungs, was now overwhelming and terrifying. If it wasn’t for Helion and his spell cleaving you're not even sure you’d still be here, in fact you’re certain it would have consumed you.

As beautiful as the auras of the world were, if you couldn’t control it— it would be the death of you.

“How are you feeling?” You had finally turned to Helion now, his question lingering in the air.

How were you feeling?

You could see, feel, taste Helion’s energy in front of you. A golden glow, so fitting for the High Lord of Day. It beamed within him like an orb of sunlight. You couldn’t touch it though, not like you used to, not like when you were a child and you used the naively play with creatures auras like a toy. Not like how Cressida had taught you to toy with people’s auras which was far from play.

That sense of control had broken, leaving jagged scars across your body to match.

Your hands, almost subconsciously went to touch the rugged scar that ran from your shoulder down to your torso. It tingled under your thoughts, but you pulled your hand back. Not allowing another moment to be wasted on what had happened and the marks it had left on you.

That was why you needed Helion and his spells. He had a way of dimming it with his own power, making it easier for you to navigate your day-to-day without being utterly consumed by the noise and colours of everyone else.

“I feel okay actually,” you had responded, your eyes moving up to the lines on your friends face. He smiled softly at you.

“This is the longest you’ve been without us having to spell cleave, but today—“

“Today could be a noisy day,” you finished his sentence, understanding what he was implying.

Tody, you were to begin training with the Valkyries.

“Those priestesses are already a bundle of emotions when they pass you, I think resealing the spell would be wise. Amren agrees.”

Well then, it wasn’t really up for debate.

You cocked a brow at Helion before moving towards the table in your room. That was now adorned with breakfast, courtesy of the house of course. Helion folded his arms across his broad chest. He still wore the colours of Day, white and pristine, glittered in gold jewellery along his wrists, earrings bejewelled with sunlight themselves. Grand and beautiful, just like him. However he looked so out of place against the dark background of the Night interior. As ornate as the House of Wind was, Helion didn’t fit.

No, he belonged among his own court, but the High Lord of day had left his court to accompany you. That in itself was such a large display of loyalty. You swallowed your guilt as you sat at the table, spreading butter across the warm toast and taking a bite.

“But of course the decision is always yours to make y/n,” Helion spoke, his tone as warm as the butter melting upon your breakfast.

They only wanted what was best for you, you knew that. Reminded yourself in moments like these. But you couldn’t help the feelings that slipped up to the surface. Since you’d come to the Fae courts and discovered who you were—what you were. Every piece of guidance came with a weight you felt like you couldn’t refuse.

You were the Mother’s daughter— Blessed be— you had status, respect, power— to do as you please, but that came with a responsibility that felt too heavy to bear. Every decision you made had to be considered, because it didn’t only affect you but the entire world and the peoples and creatures within it.

That meant, even if you wanted to try and push another day without the spell. See how far you could go as the spell thinned, you couldn’t risk it. As it wasn’t only you who it would endanger, but every living thing.

When Helion had found you— a shattered version of yourself— he’d spent the time piecing you back together. Perhaps out of duty to begin with, but somewhere along that journey a genuine friendship grew. However that would never negate from who you were, and what you were born to do— what your life’s duty was to be, and what he, what Amren, whatever everyone else on this island needed to do ensure you accomplished it.

“Let’s reseal the spell,” you muttered before taking another chomp of your toast, a softer look on your eyes this time. “…after breakfast.”

Helion smiled warmly, joining you at the table as he had done now every morning since he saved you.

The simmering of the fresh spell lingered on your skin, Helion’s magic coursing an invisible shield around you. The spell acting as a filter to the aura you were always so sensitive to.

The early days of his spells were always the nicest, at least they were nowadays. After building your tolerance back up with Helion, the first week of his spell usually lasted with minimal discomfort. He always had to be near though, his rooms were only down the hall to yours.

Sometimes your tolerance was less, or someone or some creature’s aura louder than usual that you needed him to reseal. It was why for the past year he’d essentially been attached to you at the hip, like a doting father or brother. And then there was Amren— doting wasn’t the word you would use. But she was always there too now. Out of duty of course, the way she’d collapsed down to her knees in your first encounter revealed how strongly her loyalty would lie to you.

Or lie to what you stood for.

Amren, the ancient one knew what your existence meant. Felt it in her bones, remembered the murmurings of stories and prophecies she listened to back in her own adolescent years. She knew what was coming, and knew how important it was that the Mother’s daughter had her ability under control.

So here you were, stood before Helion and Amren like a girl on her first day of school. Helion tightened one of the straps on the leathers you had been told to wear. He couldn’t attend the training class, only approved males were sanctioned so he would stay the floor below. In a waiting room. A handful of books already tucked under his arm.

“Stop fussing over the girl,” Amren snapped, her expression as hard as it always was. Despite her being utterly devoted to you and your protection, that dedication did not come with a slither of a smile.

You may have found her scary, if she didn’t remind you so much of someone you missed.

Helion gave you a knowing look before playfully winking at you. His large hands coming to squeeze your shoulders.

“How do you feel?” He asked, ignoring Amren at his side.

“The world is quiet once more,” you replied in a slightly chipper tone that garnered a smile from Helion.

He tapped the top of your head, “If we need to reseal, or something triggers it you leave right away, okay?”

You nodded in response along with a hum in agreement. This training was supposed to do the opposite of just that, however there were concerns. After the inner circle had barged their way into the Day Court a month ago, after Helion revealed who you were— a lot had changed.

Your belongings— which wasn’t very many— were packed up, along with you and Helion as you were practically shipped to the Night Court. You realised when you arrived how this had always been Helion’s intention. Why he’d taken the time to tell you the names of the Night Courts inner circle all those months ago. It was because they held significance in your journey.

The Night Court was safer, Velaris having an ancient spell that had protected it for so long. Amren was to teach you, she had knowledge that even Helion’s libraries didn’t share. There was Rhys too, with his mind and magic who was a crucial part to play in you regaining control of your power.

And now there were the Valkyries, who you were to train with.

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes dancing upon the still sleeping city. It was quieter now, thanks to Helion. No noise and colours probing into your mind.

It was peaceful, and yet so lonely. When you had full control of your ability, back when it felt like an extension of you. You could slip in and out of it with ease, danced with it, sung with it. Now, it felt like a headache that could only be dulled with Helion’s magic.

“It is the mind-stilling which is a priority in your training. I believe it could be key to you regaining control over your abilities. You will train with the Valkyrie’s everyday until you master it.” Amren spoke. You didn’t turn to look at her, your eyes still gazing onto the cityscape below. Your mind wandering to what the people below were up to, what they may have been dreaming of. Thinking back to a time when your life was much simpler, when the most daunting part of your week was whether one of the village boys would fancy you.

You stopped yourself there. Stopped yourself from indulging and reminiscing in the past. The continent was so far away now, as was that version of you.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You turned to Amren, concern evident in your tone. The sun kissing your face as your brows furrowed.

She was sat in the shade, back against the cool stone wall of the house, “It has to.”

A silence settled between you both. Amren was right, this had to work because Mother be damned if it didn’t.

Nesta cringed as she watched the priestesses fuss. She had told them to be on their best behaviour, but in the presence of a living deity the females couldn’t help themselves.

They blushed and whispered, giggled and muttered words of prayer, some even curtseying as soon as they stepped onto the rooftop. Rollings of ‘Blessed be’ harmonised from their tongues and even Gwyn’s eyes widened in the presence of you. The female looked ready to burst with excitement.

There was something about your presence that was otherworldly, not just in your beauty but in the way you moved among the earth spoke of grace. Nesta couldn’t believe her eyes when she had found out you’d grown up on the continent on a farm and then The Middle— with a witch! And yet there was a regality that existed within you that couldn’t be taught, it had just always been, you had been born with it, cauldron-born to be exact.

You stood in front of them all, your own embarrassment from the fuss evident in your averting gaze. Gently— with delicate grace— you bowed your head towards the priestesses, responding appropriately with a whispering “Blessed be,” which only seemed to elicit more noise from the females. Enough noise that it took you a beat to notice the gust of wind that blew across your face as a shadow blocked out the sun for a moment. With a thud two large Illyrian males landed in the middle of the rooftop balcony.

Helion’s spell had been working fine till now, not a whisper or a simmering of aura— till you saw him.

Felt him, scented him.

In a flurry of steps you found your back pressed against the railing on the rooftop. The very presence of someone causing your feet to stumble back, hands clutching the railing tightly in a blur of a moment. He was here. The very male you often found yourself dreaming of when your mind wasn’t caught in the past.

Azriel.

Amren had launched from her place, she had been watching you so closely that even just a tremor of difference she would notice. But it wasn’t just Amren who had stepped towards you, the Shadowsinger himself had taken several large strides since landing as if he’d also always been watching.

“Do I need to get Helion?” Amren asked with an urgency in her tone.

Your breaths were shallow, your gaze falling to your feet as you tried to focus. You had been caught off guard, in the silence of spell you hadn’t expected any noise at all. You hadn’t been affected by the lively group of priestesses, Nesta’s silver aura hadn’t been licking at your mind or even the thousands of people in the city below hadn’t affected you.

But him. He had triggered something, somehow.

Azriel looked upon you with a concern that felt heavy. Hesitant as he stood only a step behind Amren.

Had he startled you? When him and Cassian had landed? Azriel couldn’t deny he had rushed to this training session, after spending the month on a mission. Rhys had sent word that you were to begin training, and the swell in Azriel’s chest was enough to have Cassian trying to keep up to the Spymaster on their entire flight home.

Azriel’s eyes wandered over you, his shadows whispering their own concerns. They had noticed your nerves, just as he had noticed them during his first encounter with you. It was his job to notice the little things, his duty as spymaster to notice the things others couldn’t, but even he couldn’t explain why he felt so attuned to you.

The morning breeze gently blew across your face, pulling the pieces of hair that were loose from your braid. You had calmed yourself, calmed yourself enough to raise your head to the audience on the rooftop. He could see you now, fully, for the first time in a month, and Azriel forgot how to breathe.

Divine.

He thought it was his shadows that whispered it, but maybe it was his own thoughts too. You were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid his eyes on— angelic and saintly.

Divine was the only word for it.

Divine, divine, divine. His shadows sang.

“No, I am fine,” you finally replied to Amren. She looked at you sceptically, a look in her face that told you if you were lying then there would be hell to pay. You repeated yourself though, stepping away from the railing you had pressed yourself against.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet. Not after what he had just triggered, that tightness in your chest was new and overwhelming to say the least. It was different though, to the way auras usually felt that left you with confusion and questions to why the Shadowsinger felt, smelt, tasted so different to everyone else.

You were grateful for the male beside him who decided to speak. “Sorry we probably startled you, just dropping from the sky like that— we tend to do that sometimes.” It was Cassian who had spoken, a warmness in his tone that reminded you of Helion. There was a twinkle in his eye of light-heartedness that seemed to dissipate the unease that had settled among the group.

You offered him a soft smile that only seemed to spur him on. His tone bellowing as he outstretched his arms in introduction, “I’m Cassian, and this is—“

“Azriel,” you finished his sentence for him. Not being able to stop yourself from saying his name out loud. Not being able to stop yourself from finally looking at him.

“Right, Azriel. You’ve already met,” Cassian replied, a look in his eye as he glanced between his brother and you.

It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair how much lovelier he was than in your dreams— which you didn’t think could be possible. The handsome lines of his tanned face, the dark hair that fell in loose curls and those large wings that were tucked behind his back. Your eyes dragged across him, finally landing on his own gaze. How it brought you back to that first moment you met him—how he had trapped you in his gaze back in the courtyard of Day.

“And I’m Gwyn,” the words had practically burst from the red-headed female. Her deciding now was clearly the right time to introduce herself, not that you minded. In fact if she hadn’t you may have just stared at the Shadowsinger all day, “…and I think I can speak on behalf of us all, but it is truly an honour that you wish to train with us.”

There were some murmurings from the priestesses then, as if in agreement and even Cassian tipped his head in bow towards you.

There it was again, that weight you held. Crushing and terrifying, they put you an a pedestal, showered you with adoration you weren’t too sure you deserved. With subtle strain you forced a gentle smile onto your lips.

“The honour is all mine Gwyn,” and you meant it. The people on this balcony had earned that praise more than you ever had.

“She just said my name,” Gwyn whispered in disbelief to her friends, her cheeks going rosy at the recognition. Nesta simply rolled their eyes, Emery teasingly nudged Gwyn with her elbow.

But it was a sentiment Azriel was still stuck on too. You had said his name, knew his name— knew him. His name on your lips was like a song, a melody you serenaded him with. His shadows had felt it too, your recognition of their master causing a stir that had them wanting to reach out—which they would have if Azriel didn’t have them on such a tight leash. Azriel only tore his gaze from you when Amren spoke up.

“Enough about honour and names,” Amren snapped, her eyes not landing on you but the the two males who had just arrived. They understand her stare, her tone, the waft of her had as she strode back to her spot in the shade.

“Right let’s start ladies, find a space and we’ll begin with stretches,” Cassian commanded, his tone authoritative that had the females moving into motion. Even Azriel snapped himself from his thoughts, collecting himself as he stalked towards one side of the balcony.

You followed suit, following the motion of the other females and finding yourself in amongst the group to begin. You noticed though how Nesta had come to your left, Emery flanking your right, and Gwyn directly behind you. As if creating their own shield. Perhaps a statement to the swooning priestesses— regardless, you were appreciative.

Stretching began, and you copied Cassian’s movements in front of you. In sync with the other females around you. Moving your muscles in a way you hadn’t for a while, stretching the aches you didn’t know were there. Cassian stood in front of the group, bellowing whenever the stretch would change.

The movement was welcome though. You’d always had an active life. Growing up on a farm, tending to the crops and harvests had been your way. You weren’t new to the ache of a hard days work. Then you’d spent your time in The Middle, with Cressida who had an unrelenting method of training you.

“I’ve heard you’re not a novice?” Nesta asked you as the group was split in two. One side had been pulled to practice mind-stilling, the other, your group, had been given wooden staffs to practice more physical exercises.

You took the staff in your hand, curling your fingers around the rod. Nesta wasn’t referencing your past though. She was asking about your time in Day, you hummed in response with a nod. “I trained with Helion’s sentries for a few months,” it helped…for a while. Your progress had soon dropped off though, plateaued, which was why you were here. To see if the Valkyrie way of training would help in any way.

Nesta nodded in response, before tapping your staff twice with hers. “Show me then,” she moved into a defensive stance and your brow quirked.

It was a challenge, she had been the only one who had dared, the only person to treat you with some semblance or normalcy— and it made you smile.

a/n: well here is part 2, I’m sorry this has quite literally taken months to get this instalment live, so I really appreciate any of you who might still be around to read this! I do think this has the potential to be a slightly bigger series than I first anticipated, but I guess that’s my fault for giving our mc the coolest back story ever 😅 anyway enjoy my loves 🤍 - Lottie xx

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umeuyenicorn · 6 months ago

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Thank all of you for participating in suggesting and voting in this poll, the result are here

And...quack! The rubber duck came first place. So this is my attempt at drawing him

Here's the poll for the absurd gift ideas:

Note: I will add the top three from the previous poll in the game (and for other ideas that weren't picked maybe I will try to combining some of them with the ideas in this poll)

Special thanks to them for suggesting the ideas on this poll:

@kimium | @koby-lux | @axiian19-art | @lilacscentedcandle | @K4shuu

#my art #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #aventio #fangame #dr ratio #hsr ratio #honkai sr #hsr #ratiorine #veritas ratio #aventurine #art #artists on tumblr #illustration #artwork

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seancekitsch · 8 months ago

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Hello! Here’s the fic idea I commented earlier, sorry if I sent it the wrong place the first time 😅.

This is my first time asking but what if you did a fic where Lucifer gets startled by the reader (if you do that sorta thing) while he’s working on a duck or smth and his wings pop out and the reader (again, idk if you do that, maybe another character?) teasingly touches his wings and he gets really flustered because ✨sensitive wing trope✨ and whatever happens after that is purely up to interpretation and yeahhhh, that’s my fic idea! :3

hey dont worry! i know im prone to losing track of things i just wanted to make sure i didnt lose it :)

Curiosity has been killing you all day. It started with the chipper mood Lucifer had walked into his work shop with, and only increased when you started to hear the noise of tinkering tools. He’d cheerfully told you not to let anyone disturb him today, which, was a welcome change from the gloomy way he used to drag himself to this same workshop. With the way you’d have to drag him out to eat, the way you’d have to pretend you couldn’t hear him mumbling to himself through the door. It was easier for Lucifer if you pretended that you didn’t know about what he was going through, so you did just that, and he rewarded you with his loyalty and generosity, and dare you say it: his companionship. Being his assistant for the past few years, you’d seen a change in him the more time he spent with his daughter. It was nice. This is the happiest you’ve seen him in a long time, and the curiosity is killing you.

The sounds of a drill, the sounds of hammering, the sounds of clinking metal drift out from the door to where you’re sat, a plush lounger where you get to turn away any uninvited guests (thought there never are any). This isn’t the typical soundscape you hear when Lucifer has a new duck idea. You stop scrolling Sinstagram, throwing your phone onto the cushion as the nagging thought to check on him finally consumes you.

You push open the door carefully, the sounds of tinkering growing louder.

“Hello?” you ask, “Luce?”

No answer. Then you spot him, his coat haphazardly thrown to the side, working on the table near the window hunched over and in full focus.

“Hey?” you call again, your voice just loud enough to carry across the workshop space.

Lucifer jerks up from the desk he’s hunched over, clearly having not heard your knocking before entering. He knocks his hip into the edge of it, jostling all of his tools, clanking together. Your calling out to him seems to start a chain reaction, one that ends with a carving tool hitting the ground and three sets of wings suddenly sprouting from already designated holes from your boss’ burgundy velvet waistcoat.

Holy shit. You haven’t seen him like this since… well, extermination day. And sure, other demons have wings, but his are magnificent, in a way that even made you give pause to admire them amongst the bloodshed of that day. You shoulder slump, awestruck at the demon in front of you. Your feet seem to move of their own accord, crossing the space between you and your boss.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Lucifer’s shoulders sag, relaxing as he realizes its just you, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You shake your head, a smile spreading across your lips.

“I should have been louder,” you offer, and step closer, admiring his wings still not retracted. Lucifer relaxes too, smiling at the welcome intrusion.

“So what brings you into workshop today, huh?” He asks, and then falters, “Not that uh— not that I’m not happy you’re in here it’s just uh— you know, you don’t usually…”

“I got curious,” you answer, cutting off any rambling he’s going to do. Lucifer has been rambling a lot more often lately. So unsure of himself, it’s sweet.

You reach out, fingertips brushing against the tips of crimson red feathers.

“Haven’t seen these in a while,” you muse, rubbing your thumb across the top of one wing. They’re softer than you expected them to be, rich luxe down that you’d expect of the worlds most expensive pillow. Your eyes follow them to where they lead back into his waistcoat, connecting to his back. What would his bare back look like?

A groan interrupts your thoughts, and glancing to Lucifer’s face, his teeth are bared. Oh shit. What a fucking mistake.

“I’m sorry, Sir! I hope I didn’t hurt you I didn’t-” you yank your hand back as if its been burned, fear spreading like ice in your veins that you’d irreconcilably fucked this up and maybe now you’re out of a job and you’d never be able to see him again, stuck finding work with the Vees or even worse.

Lucifer inhales sharply, and then sighs.

“No, no please don’t be sorry,” he reaches out for you, as if he’s scared too. His gloved hands cradle your hand, the one that dared to touch his wing.

“You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, a sheepish smile spreading across his features, just alabaster cheeks growing red as he keeps talking, “My wings are, well, they’re… sensitive?”

His voice rises as if he’s questioning himself in his own explanation. It takes you a moment, searching the King of Hell’s face for an answer before it hits you, almost taking the wind out of your chest. Oh, you realize. That was not a groan of pain. Fuck, this is awkward.

“Oh I’m,” you pause, are you sorry? “I’m sorry.”

Lucifer searches your face, his mouth falling into a frown.

“No! Please, don’t be. Stop apologizing,” Luficer’s hands start pulling yours, beckoning you closer to him again. You comply, stepping back into his personal space. Lucifer places your hand back onto his wing, smiling again.

“I liked it,” he tells you, smile starting to melt into a smirk. Your hand travels along the top of the wing, smoothing out any feathers out of their spot. Lucifer shudders as your hand moves, a sigh leaving his lips.

Emboldened, you keep going, running your nails along them, down between feathers.

Lucifer reacts… exquisitely. His hands shoot out to grip your hips, fingers digging into you. He starts panting, the blush growing across his skin.

“Been a while since you’ve been touched like this, huh, Sir?” you ask, pushing your luck. Lucifer nods as he lets his forehead fall against your shoulder. He moans into the side of your neck as he wraps himself further around you.

“What were you making?” you ask him, finally remembering what you even came in here for. Though, this seems better than the original reason; With you quickly feeling yourself go weak at the sound of the noices falling from Lucifer’s lips and the feeling of his hot breath fanning out along your neck.

“Fuck,” he pants, “Gift for you.”

His hands start wandering, moving from your hips to your waist and back down, just short of coming around to cup your ass. You would let him if he did.

“For little old me?” you tease him, though internally, you could scream. It touches deep inside of you that he’d think of you like that enough to make you something.

“Mmm, of course,” he hums, nuzzling his face closer into your neck. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him as your nails rake through his wing, the two of you pressed together in desperate intimacy.

Your breath hitches when his knee knocks between your own.

“Th- thank you, Sir,” you whisper, your voice airy and far away.

Lucifer chuckles against your skin, his grasp on you tightening.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he says, “I’ve got another gift for you if you want it.”

You don’t need to be a genius to read between the lines of what he means. Hell, now you see it. What a charmer.

“Oh yeah?” you challenge him, your free hand coming up to touch the buttons of his waistcoat. Lucifer pulls back, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you like a prize to be won.

"Get on the table and I'll show you," he says.

And then it's like you can't move fast enough.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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luxthestrange · 1 year ago

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TWST Incorrect quotes#548 Pee Paw

Outside the Zigvolt Home Baul is visiting his Daughter and Grandchildren, Baul hears a LOUD engine revving, As he peeks out to see who is making that noise

Sebek*Peeks as well to see and sees You in a motorcycle and a leather jacket and thug look*

Yuu*Puts shades up and looks at them, With two fingers pointing at Sebek and then at the seat behind them*...

Sebek: Ha! It's the human!

Baul: That's not the human I know...

Sebek: That's not the Yuu I know, either...B-but I kinda like it

Baul*Goes to stop him using his body to cover the door*Where do you think you're going, young man?

Sebek: Wherever they'll take me!

Baul: I forbid you to go out with that hoodlum!?

Sebek: But, Grandfather, I love them!!!

Baul*Eyes widen and frowns pointing up the stairs*Go to your room!

Sebek*Sniffles and frowns*But I don't even live here!

Baul*Blinks,stutters*W-Well, go to the first room that your mother turned into a scrapbooking room while you're in NRC!?

Sebek cries as he stomps his way to his old room he runs up the stairs to his old room, runs out to open the window to see you

Baul*Opens the door and growls at you*Get off my daughter's property, Thugs Yuu!

Sebek*In his mother new scrapbooking room*My human!

Yuu*Pointing at Sebek* I'll come back for ya!

Lux @ Sebek:VOLVERE LIMONCITO!

#twst disney #twst #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #twst diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt x yuu #baul zigvolt #twst in the nutshell #twst incorrect quotes #twst fluff #incorrect quotes

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lobster-tales · 2 years ago

Text

Beat the Daylight

Sequel to Face the Noise, an Arcane Rock Band AU

Rating: M

Chapter 13: The Pub Part 3

Summary: Progress Day celebrates their victory in The Lanes || Lux and Jinx have their own celebration in Zaun

CW: Alcohol

This work is available here on AO3. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

True to his word, Vander had shooed away his regular clientele, hanging the rarely if ever used ‘Private Party’ sign on the wooden front door. The tables and chairs were stacked neatly, except for a few by the bar where their growing family could all fit. The TVs were off, though apparently the entire pub had been watching the contest rounds: when Progress Day won, they had all cheered and stomped their feet, making such a noise that Vander was afraid they’d break something.

Vi, Caitlyn, and Ekko were the first to arrive. Vander embraced them all, leaving Vi for last and holding her the longest. “I’m so proud of you,” he rumbled. “So proud.”

“Thanks, Dad.” When Vi pulled back, her eyes were damp.

“Where’s the rest of the band?” Vander asked. “I was looking forward to congratulating your lead guitarist. Quite the pipes on her.”

Vi exchanged glances with Caitlyn. “She uh… had something else to do tonight.”

Caitlyn added, “We’ll be sure to pass along your praise though.”

“And Jayce is on his way,” Ekko said, reading his phone messages. “I um… I also invited Zeri?” He gave Vander a hopeful look. “Is that okay?”

“Zeri? Ohh, from the opening band. Sure, I don’t see why not.”

They heard clanging sounds from the kitchen. Benzo, Vander explained, doing the dishes. Then he poured everyone a drink while they waited, asking questions about their band practices and methods.

The door opened, and in walked Senator Mel Medarda, with Jayce in tow.

As soon as they entered, Benzo’s voice resounded off the walls. “There she is!”

Ekko winced at the sound. “Dad, don’t-”

But he was powerless to stop Benzo as he barrelled towards Mel, sweeping her into an enormous hug.

The rest of the room held their breath as the senator was swung around. They were all shocked that Benzo would do such a thing, but even more shocked when Mel laughed. A real, genuine laugh, the way a child laughs when greeted by an overenthusiastic relative.

“Let go!” she giggled. “Set me down, you great thing.”

Caitlyn could tell from the polite wince on Mel’s face that Benzo already reeked of alcohol. He kept a large hand on her shoulders. “Come, let’s get you a drink.”

“Senator Mel Medarda.” Vander’s words were more of a muse than a greeting. “In the flesh. What can I get for you?”

“Ah, this must be the great Vander,” Mel said, ignoring his question. “I’ve heard much about you.”

“All bad, I hope.” He eyed her as she approached the bar. “Let me see… I know.” He moved to retrieve it. Though Vander was an extremely talented musician, his greatest skill was the ability to identify anyone’s favorite kind of drink just by looking at them. Tonight seemed to be no exception when he pulled out a mid-tier bottle of gin, holding it up to display for her.

Mel grinned. “Well done.”

He started pouring a drink for her, adding tonic water. “Welcome to The Last Drop, Senator.”

“Thank you.” She accepted the glass gracefully and toasted him. “And congratulations on the success of your daughters.” The air stilled. Mel immediately recognized her misstep, and said, “Th-that is-”

“It’s alright.” Vander raised his own glass. “Thank you. I’m very proud of them both.”

Clink. Ekko took a seat beside Mel at the bar. “Did you watch us?” he asked, eager.

“Of course, I always watch.” She put an affectionate hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations, Boy Savior.”

Jayce went to sit in the seat beside Mel, but Benzo beat him to it. He lingered at the edge of the group, and Caitlyn joined him there.

“Good job, Talis,” Caitlyn said wryly. “Didn’t think you could pull it off.”

He smiled and shook his head at her pestering. “Please, it was easy. I could drum in my sleep.”

“Well, maybe you should. You might be better at it.”

“Hey!” he laughed, jabbing her with an elbow.

The door opened again, and this time, Zeri entered. Her oversized coat nearly swallowed her, her sharp eyes darting around the room. Ekko contained his excitement, but barely, as he swaggered up to her, hands in his pockets, and gave a casual, “Sup. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Zeri said with a smirk.

Ekko breezed through introductions: Caitlyn and Jayce just gave a simple greeting and wave as Ekko nearly dragged her to the bar to meet the rest of the group. Soon, they were all lost in conversation, swapping band stories, while Caitlyn and Jayce chose to remain on the outside.

“I um,” Caitlyn wasn’t sure where to start. She hadn’t checked in with him for so long. “I meant to ask, how are you doing?”

His expression turned quizzical. “Uh… fine?”

She could tell, though, up close. She knew him for far too long to not know when he was putting on airs. But it hurt to see how good he was at it now, how long he’d been wearing that mask. And the fact that he would try wearing it around her. Of course, she didn’t want him to dissolve into tears tonight, not when he was supposed to be celebrating.

“We should catch up,” Caitlyn said, though it was more of a command than a suggestion. “Get coffee.”

“Sure.” Ekko passed Jayce’s drink to him from the bar: an old fashioned, per usual. Jayce sipped at it, smiling to himself. “You know, I’ve been to a couple different bars in Piltover. Viktor even took me to one or two on the outskirts of Zaun. But Vander’s old fashioneds are the best ones by far.”

Caitlyn was more of a wine drinker herself, but she understood the sentiment. At hearing Viktor’s name, she cocked an eyebrow. “Have you… spoken to him? Viktor?”

Jayce’s broad shoulders drooped, just ever so slightly. “Not really. I send him funny pictures sometimes, but he doesn’t really respond. Not that he ever responded before, but…” He lowered his voice. “You’ve spoken to him, right? For the investigation?”

The rest of the family was too engrossed in storytelling to overhear, so Caitlyn felt comfortable enough to say, “Yes. There’s been a few roadblocks, though. The band takes up a lot of his time.”

“Is he… okay? Like, is he happy?”

The mask had slipped, if not fallen off entirely. He was like a puppy with those big, brown eyes. Caitlyn felt a twinge of guilt on Mel’s behalf: she knew firsthand how emotional Jayce could be during a break up. Especially since she had been there for every other one.

She answered, “He is. He asked about you.” Technically, that was true, even if Viktor only ever asked once. Of course, he was much more offhand, and only offered a cool “Hmm. Good.” when Caitlyn told him. Though she had never been able to guess Viktor’s inner feelings. Jayce’s externality was so much easier to analyze.

He nodded, reassured, though the sadness was still there. Caitlyn decided that when they got coffee, she would walk him to the playground, let him open up there. But for now…

“Buck up, Talis,” she said with a wink. “You’re having fun tonight, whether you like it or not. Come on.” Caitlyn led him to the rest of the group, where Benzo was pointing at Vander.

“You know,” said Benzo. “Vander’s the one who taught them all.”

“That’s right,” Mel said. “I’ve heard you’re quite the musician, Vander.”

Zeri asked, “Really? Will you play for us?”

Vi and Ekko both gasped, then started pleading. “Yeah!”

He took some serious convincing, but eventually gave in. They relocated the party to the basement, where Vander removed his bass from storage. Jayce and Ekko made quick work of setting up Benzo’s drum set and the keyboard, piecing everything together while Vi tuned the electric guitar. Zeri, Mel, and Caitlyn took their seats at a nearby table, Jayce joining them once the band was ready.

Vander and Benzo definitely needed a few songs to warm up, but once they started going, they couldn’t stop. Vander’s voice was slightly hoarse from age, but he still hit all the high notes. They played classic rock, songs that most if not all of them knew.

Every now and then, Benzo would hand off the sticks to Jayce, or Vi and Vander would switch instruments. Even Zeri sang a few songs, hopped behind the keys with Ekko. They asked Caitlyn and Mel over and over again to sing on the mic, but neither wanted to, both self aware and secure enough to recognize their lack of skill.

Between songs, Vi sipped from her whiskey neat. Which is how she ended up much drunker than the rest of them, and eventually staggered to the mic and said, a little too loudly, “I wanna sing one!”

Vander nodded to Ekko, who got her a glass of water. “Which one, Vi?”

She drank deeply, then whispered it to the rest of the band. They exchanged sly grins as Vi returned to the mic, her attention directed at Caitlyn. “This song… is for my girl.”

The rest of the table giggled at the dramatics of it. Zeri was sitting in her chair backwards, straddling the seat. Jayce and Mel began the night sitting apart, but had slowly gravitated closer together. Now, Mel’s legs were resting across his lap, his hand on her thigh.

Vi shouted into the mic, “1, 2, 3, 4!”

Can't count the years on one hand That we've been together

Caitlyn, amused, called out over the noise, “You very much can.”

Vi kept going. Throughout the verse, she started sauntering towards Caitlyn.

I need the other one to hold you Make you feel, make you feel better It's not a walk in the park To love each other But when our fingers interlock Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it

Now Vi was standing right in front of her. She placed her fingers delicately under Caitlyn’s chin, voice sweet.

'Cause after all this time, I'm still into you

Caitlyn leaned up to kiss her, but Vi pulled away at the last second, smirking. She sang the chorus, jumping in time to the beat as Ekko sang backup vocals.

I should be over all the butterflies But I'm into you And baby even on our worst nights I'm into you Let 'em wonder how we got this far 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

When they finished the second chorus, Vi got close to Caitlyn again, swaying forward with each line of the bridge.

Well, some things just, some things just make sense And one of those is you and I Well, some things just, some things just make sense And even after all this time

Vi straddled her on the chair, pressing their foreheads together.

I'm into you Baby, not a day goes by

Her volume started raising, and Caitlyn’s grin morphed into a wince as Vi sang passionately to her face,

That I'm not into you

On the last chorus, Vi leapt on top of the table, dancing as she finished out the song. Her thick boots scraped against the wood. Mel and Jayce leaned back, nervous, but Zeri whooped and cheered her on, pulling out her wallet and tossing crumpled dollar bills on the table. Benzo and Ekko laughed, but Vander was clearly concerned. As the last notes faded out, Caitlyn stood and held out her hand to guide Vi to the floor.

But instead, Vi threw her arms around Caitlyn and practically fell on top of her, kissing her as she did so. Caitlyn barely kept her balance, laughing against Vi’s mouth. She tasted of salt and whisky, her face slick with sweat. And Caitlyn wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Alright then,” Vander called, and they broke apart. “Vi, I think you should sit this next one out.”

And she did, with the caveat that Caitlyn sit on her lap. While Vi sobered up, the rest of them kept drinking, and eventually, Vander announced the last song. “Gotta get this old man to bed,” he added, nodding at Benzo.

“Who you calling old man?” Benzo slurred, pretending to throw a drumstick at Vander.

Zeri grabbed Mel and Caitlyn, insisting they sing the last one together despite their protests.

“Really, Zeri,” Mel said. “I’m quite tone deaf, I assure you.”

“I don’t care!” Zeri sang the words. “We’re all singing.” She whispered the song title to Vander, who grinned. He plucked out the opening notes, practicing a few times before he nodded at Benzo.

As soon as Vander played the opening hook, they all leapt to their feet, crowding around the microphone.

Coming out of my cage And I've been doing just fine Gotta gotta be down Because I want it all It started out with a kiss How did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

Mel was, in fact, tone deaf, Caitlyn had her usual tinniness, and Jayce was less than impressive, but their voices were joined in by the others. Ekko harmonized as Vi and Zeri took the lead, and as the chorus began, they all began to jump and dance in time with the music.

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea Swimming through sick lullabies Choking on your alibis But it's just the price I pay Destiny is calling me Open up my eager eyes 'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

Soon, the microphone was abandoned, all of them spreading around the makeshift stage as they sang the next verse and chorus. Jayce twirled Mel around to the beat, Vi’s hands locked on Caitlyn’s waist. Even Zeri and Ekko held hands as they danced together. And when the bridge came, they all screamed out the final words to the song.

I never I never I never! I never!

As the song faded out, Vi put her hands under Caitlyn’s thighs and lifted her up. Caitlyn wrapped her legs around her waist and kissed her again. The way she kissed her their first time, here in this very basement. Everything else faded out, the cheers of the group, their embraces. All that existed was Vi, her silver eyes, warmer than Caitlyn had seen them in years.

As she was lowered to the floor, Caitlyn took a moment to step back, really take it all in. They were all so happy. Wonderfully, deliriously happy.

She wished the entire band was here. She hoped that Ezreal and Lux were at least okay, regardless of how the evening played out. And maybe it was her talks with Viktor, maybe it was her proximity to this family.

But she really, truly hoped that Jinx was happy.

☆ ☆ ☆

That poor chauffeur. But after the first three clubs, Jinx was starting to get too tipsy to feel bad. At least Silco would pay him well, especially for taking care of his star by driving her around for hours. Or maybe Jinx would push it to days. Maybe the night would never end, and Lux would belong to her forever.

And what a belonging she was. What a bright, beautiful creature to have on her arm. Jinx never used to socialize at the clubs, much less with other celebrities, but she couldn’t resist showing her off. And Lux acclimated well: extremely well. She connected with everyone, asked questions, told stories. And just when people were getting too close to her, just when they began to show a real, intentioned interest, Jinx pulled her away. And Lux let her, gladly. Because Lux was hers tonight.

Jinx kept a hand on her at all times. Her waist, her hand, her shoulder. She claimed every inch that she could, fingers trailing down the shimmery fabric. On Jinx, the dress came down to just above her knee, and had always been too bright and attention-grabbing for her taste. But on Lux, the dress stopped neatly on her upper thigh, barely concealing everything. She did wear a pair of Jinx’s boy shorts underneath, though, since it made her more comfortable. Completed by the white fishnets that laced themselves up Lux’s long legs, the entire outfit made Jinx’s mouth water.

She kept herself under control, though. At each club, she spaced it out: take a shot, socialize, get a drink, dance. The dancing was the best part. And that’s when Jinx would almost lose control.

Jinx had always been graceful, her body moving like water. At first, Lux was stiff, awkward on the dancefloor. After a few drinks, after a few sloppy makeout sessions in the alley, she started figuring it out. She even studied the other dancers, copied the girls who pressed their asses against their partner’s hips.

And that’s what really drove Jinx wild. That’s what caused Jinx to drag her to the bathroom, to shove her up against the wall of the stall, not even bothering to lock the door as she kissed her roughly.

Lux matched her energy, tugging at Jinx’s own dress, pulling off her pinstripe blazer.

Jinx’s hands were everywhere: her back, her arms, her hips, her thighs. Her lips seized the skin around Lux’s neck, sucking each sensitive spot and leaving a mark. She palmed Lux’s chest, and Lux gasped softly. Her fingers went beneath the pad of her strapless bra, pressing against and around her nipples.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jinx saw the stall door slowly swing open towards them. She didn’t let up, just kept kissing Lux while her boot slammed against the plastic, holding it shut. She thought she saw a sparkly gasp and a flash of pink hair, but maybe she imagined it.

Lux started at the sound, and it seemed to rattle her back to reality. “W-wait, Jinx-”

Jinx didn’t want to stop. She knew she had to, but allowed herself one more smatter of small kisses before she pulled back, panting. “What?”

“We-we shouldn’t do this.”

A chill ran down Jinx’s spine. No, no. Was she having second thoughts? “We shouldn’t… do what?”

“Oh, I mean, we can do this,” Lux said, realizing how it may have sounded. “Trust me, I definitely want to do this, I just don’t want to do this… here.” She nodded towards the toilet, the names and swear words scrawled on the walls.

Yeah, it was definitely a less than sexy location. “Hotel?” she asked in a breath.

Lux nodded, stealing another kiss before they left.

They managed to control themselves in the car, though Jinx sat as close as possible, hand on her thigh.

When they entered Jinx’s bedroom, Lux shook out her hair, stretching. “Man, that was fun. I’ve never gone out dancing before. Such good exercise.” She surveyed the room, the wide windows overlooking Zaun, the large bed, the light spilling from the bathroom. The hotel’s housekeepers had been surprised at Jinx’s growing level of cleanliness over the last few weeks, compared to her usual mess. Nowadays, they actually dared to step foot in the room and tidy up, which Jinx had never been so grateful for. “Can I use your shower?” Lux asked. “I’m stinky.”

Jinx came up behind her and pressed her lips to a newly bloomed hickey on Lux’s shoulder. “What if I like the way you stink?”

“You know, you could join me.”

Jinx hadn’t bathed with anyone since she was a child. The idea seemed… vulnerable. Really fucking vulnerable. Way more vulnerable than just sex. At least if they were intertwined, Jinx could hide the ugly parts of her body, the parts she didn’t want her to see.

But as soon as Lux saw the big tub in Jinx’s bathroom, her mind was set on it. “Okay, nevermind. We’re taking a bath.”

Oh. This was worse. So much worse.

Lux undressed, grinning at Jinx as she slowly pulled the dress over her shoulders. She was still a little drunk: not sloppy, just tipsy. Jinx admired the clean lines of Lux’s back. She was so used to seeing tattoos.

“Come on,” Lux said, kicking off her heels. She took Jinx’s arm and guided her to the tub. “How do you turn it on?”

They figured it out together, and soon the water rose and steam filled the room. Jinx’s fingers toyed unsurely with her own clothes. Why was she so nervous?

Lux noticed her hesitation: she still wore her own undergarments, having just removed the white fishnets. “Do you want help?”

Jinx’s instinct was to bite, protect herself. “I don’t need help.”

But Lux was unfazed, just went to her, ran her hands down Jinx’s dress. “Mmm I think you do. Here.” She gently lifted the fabric, distracting Jinx with a kiss as she did so. She was careful to work around Jinx’s braids as she removed the dress, letting it pool on the floor. Then Lux focused on Jinx’s black fishnets, rolling the tights down her thighs. She trailed kisses down her skin as more of it was revealed. Soon, she was kneeling at Jinx’s feet, freeing them one at a time from the nylon.

Lux paused there, on her knees, as she came face to face with Jinx’s underwear. A blush spread across her cheeks, and Jinx thought it may have been because her boy shorts were covered in raccoons and had the words ‘trash panda’ all over them: she probably should have changed beforehand.

But Lux stood, slowly, and muttered, “S-sorry, I’ve never… Not with a… girl.”

Oh. Ohhhhh. “So that’s why you want to take a bath,” Jinx chuckled, entwining her fingers in Lux’s silky hair. “Wanna familiarize yourself with the territory first.”

Lux grinned shyly. “Yeah, survey the landscape.”

“Gotcha.” They kissed again, and this time, Jinx’s hands went to Lux’s bra. She unhooked it without looking, letting it fall to the floor. Lux shivered against the air, but Jinx covered her with warm hands. Her panties were soon to follow, and then Lux was naked. Fully naked. In Jinx’s bathroom.

Life was fucking amazing.

Jinx was so distracted by the sight of Lux’s body that she didn’t even realize she was also naked until the trash panda shorts flew across the room. Their hands wandered over each other’s bodies, exploring, until Lux murmured, “I think the bath is ready.”

As they submerged, facing each other, Jinx wondered why she had never thought to use the tub before. Showers just seemed more convenient. Not to mention dealing with her braids. Which were now drifting in the water. And now one was in Lux’s hands, and she was undoing it.

Knowing how monumental of a task it was, Jinx helped by undoing the other braid. Soon, her loose blue hair floated around them. Lux said, “Damn. You got a lot of hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Like, a LOT of hair.”

Jinx chuckled, “Yeah.”

They exchanged a few more kisses, hands searching for each other under the water. Lux pulled away and reached for a bar of soap and a loofah. “Here, turn around.”

Jinx obeyed. She managed to get most of her hair over one shoulder so Lux had room to scrub. The suds felt sinfully good against her skin. Lux said, “I love your tattoos.”

“Thanks.”

“Why clouds?”

To be honest, Jinx had never really thought about it before. Something about explosions, maybe. But she didn’t have a solid explanation, so she just shrugged. “You ever thought about getting tattoos, Starlight?”

“Mmm maybe. My mom hates the idea though.”

“What would you get? If you want them.”

The loofah disappeared as Lux considered. “Maybe stars. Or music notes. Or animals.”

“You could match your guitar.”

Lux giggled. “I could.” Then her hands were on Jinx’s shoulders, gentle but firm. Lux’s fingertips were calloused from years of guitar playing. Her thumbs pressed against the knot of muscle at the base of Jinx’s neck. They both gasped: Jinx in a pained pleasure, and Lux in surprise. “You’re so tense, Jinx.”

“I got a lot on my- ah. Mind.”

“Yeah… Can I ask you something?” She kept massaging Jinx’s shoulders as she spoke. It felt so good: Jinx wasn’t in a state to deny her anything.

“Sure.”

“What happened to your head?”

Fuck. In all the rapture, Jinx completely forgot about the wound on her temple. She was surprised Lux didn’t ask earlier: maybe she didn’t want to embarrass her. Maybe she was waiting for the right moment, when Jinx was totally and completely at her mercy. Like she was now.

When Jinx didn’t answer right away, Lux followed up with, “I-I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I didn’t remember you having it at the show.”

Jinx sighed. And she told her the entire story, how Finn lashed out, attacked both her and Viktor.

“He attacked you?” Lux asked, incredulous. “That’s awful. Are you going to press charges?” Jinx’s laugh echoed off the tile floor. It was enough of an answer for Lux, who then moved her hands from Jinx’s shoulders to her neck. “Are you okay?”

It was such an all encompassing question. There was no right answer. But Jinx reached back and kissed Lux’s knuckles, murmuring, “I’m better now.”

Lux’s fingers disappeared briefly, and when they came back, they were cold with shampoo. She massaged the soap into Jinx’s scalp. The sensation was heavenly.

They didn’t speak for a long moment, Jinx too lost in the pleasure to say anything coherent. No one had ever touched her like this, never put this amount of tenderness into her.

There were always thoughts skittering around Jinx’s mind. Even in her moments of greatest peace, they were still there, whispering. But now, her mind was empty. There was no more room for thought, only for feeling. And she felt incredible.

When Lux finished with the conditioner, she pulled back, lowering Jinx’s head back into her lap to wash out the product. Jinx gazed up at her from the water’s surface: she couldn’t stop smiling. She heard the gurgle of water, and realized Lux had unplugged the drain. “I didn’t take care of you, though,” Jinx protested.

“That’s alright,” Lux said, kissing her on the forehead. “You’ll get me next time.”

But Lux wasn’t done. She and Jinx toweled off, threw on matching black robes (provided by the hotel: both had a gold, embroidered eye on the back), then Lux sat her down at the tall, rarely used vanity, and combed out Jinx’s hair. Silco had specially ordered a chair tall enough so that Jinx’s braids were just above the floor, though she realized her hair must have grown since then, because now her locks rested solidly on the ground.

The combing was its own euphoria. Jinx had always just torn through her hair, not patient enough to deal with it. That was part of the appeal of braids: they were easy, and manageable. But Lux worked through every knot, every tangle.

When it was clear her hair was going to be a much larger and longer task, Lux started to sing. Softly, barely above a whisper.

Close your eyes and sleep Ignore all the burdens that you keep Come whatever may They could never harm you anyway

She vocalized in between the verses. The song was haunting and beautiful, the bathroom acoustics elevating the sound. Jinx closed her eyes, pretended she was a sailor and Lux was the siren pulling her in.

Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air

Lux finished with one braid, kissing Jinx’s non-wounded temple as she moved to start the next.

It's like a web There is no escape from It’s got you trapped And you long for freedom Every wish, every dream was granted Never knowing what they demanded

Lux stopped singing. Jinx sent her a questioning glance.

“S-sorry,” Lux said, sheepish. “I… forgot how intense that song gets.”

“I like it.”

Encouraged, Lux began to sing again. As the song came to a close, she finished the other braid.

Take your time but not too long Make it worth the time you own You woke a fire inside of me Fanned the flame and made it breathe You woke a fire inside of me Inside of me Inside of me...

Jinx stood and embraced Lux, holding her probably a little too tight. She wanted to thank her, truly and properly thank her for the amount of care she had shown her. Jinx had never felt so clean, so safe, so warm in her entire life. But words would fail. She could go on for hours and never fully express her gratitude.

So instead, she took Lux’s hands, kissing her calloused fingers. She felt a little guilty for roughing her up in the bathroom stall, now, especially after Lux had been so delicate and measured with her. “You know, we don’t… have to go all the way tonight.”

“No, I want to.” Lux rested her arms on Jinx’s shoulders, pressing the tips of their noses together. “I- I don’t know if we’ll get another one, so we should make it count.”

The words stung, even if they were true. Tomorrow was the last thing on Jinx’s mind, and she wanted it to stay that way. So she guided Lux to the massive bed, laying her down among the pillows, which now seemed like a ridiculous amount. To be fair, Jinx had rarely, if ever shared it with anyone.

In fact, the only affairs she had were quick, sloppy, usually fueled by a high. Jinx figured out quickly that those who ended up in her bed didn’t want to stay there. Mostly because she was a celebrity, and they just wanted the clout. Though, she did wonder if the myriad of bruises and bites she left all over them had something to do with it.

But with Lux, this wasn’t about that immediate satisfaction. They weren’t just having sex, they were… making love. Any other time, with any other person, Jinx would have been disgusted with the idea. But there was no other way to describe it.

She was gentle with Lux, since this was her first time. Sure, she sank in her teeth every now and then, unable to totally resist. But her fingers were light, working at her center. Lux let out the most delicious moans, at first shy about being heard, but forgetting all about it when she came the first time.

Lux trembled beneath Jinx’s touch, arching her back as she rode it out. There was not a drug on earth that was so immediately addicting to Jinx, as making Lux orgasm. And she hit that high again and again and again. Whether it was her hands or tongue that broke Lux open over and over, Jinx’s eyes were always glued to her face. The twist of her expression, the flush in her cheeks, her hands and legs shaking.

When Lux recovered each time, she would push against Jinx’s shoulders, insisting it was her turn to please her, but Jinx just held her down. She would hiss into Lux’s ear, fingernails scraping against Lux’s pinned wrists. “You’re mine tonight, Starlight. And I am going to make you cum as many times as I want.”

On orgasm…8? 9? Whatever. On one of her orgasms, Jinx was more intense, fingers working at a faster pace, teeth locked on Lux’s neck so that Lux’s gasps had a direct line into Jinx’s eager ear. Lux’s composure had been unwinding more and more with each climax, her words losing coherency and decency. The sounds that escaped from her now were a string of expletives.

“F-fuck, that feels- Ah! Damn, that feels so fucking good, Powder-”

Jinx jerked back, as if she had just been electrocuted. Lux, still breathless with pleasure, sat upright, horrified at herself. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I-I’m so sorry, Jinx, it was an accident, it just slipped out, I didn’t mean-”

She kept just saying words while Jinx processed it. She wasn’t… offended, just surprised. Sometimes, she forgot that Lux knew about that part of her life.

“It’s okay,” Jinx said, interrupting Lux’s strung out apology. “Really.” She crawled on top of her, trailing kisses down her neck. “It’s okay,” she murmured again, regaining her momentum.

This time when Lux wanted to switch, Jinx let her. If Lux hadn’t told her she had never been with a girl before, Jinx would never have believed it. Lux had her writhing with need in mere seconds, applying just the right amount of pressure. She liked dragging it out, delaying Jinx’s pleasure, seeing just how much begging she could elicit. Lux’s hands and tongue were precise and intentional. Jinx was a whimpering mess by the time she came.

After a few more rounds, the day's events began to wear on the two, and they ended up cuddling, entwined beneath the covers. Lux rested her head on Jinx’s shoulder, fingers tracing the cloud tattoos.

“Do you…” Jinx asked. “Do you want to call me that?”

“What?”

“Powder.”

Lux pulled back, trying to read her face. “Um… am I allowed to?”

Jinx shrugged. “Sure. As long as it’s just us, though.”

“... Okay.” Lux grinned, brushing her lips over Jinx’s skin. “Powder. Powder. I like that name more. Not-not that there’s anything wrong with ‘Jinx’, I mean that’s definitely a better stage name. But Powder is more normal, more… Well, not that ‘normal’ is better-”

She giggled: how could she not? “You’re good, Starlight, I know what you mean.”

A few moments passed. Jinx wondered what time it was. She couldn’t see daylight yet: maybe 4 AM? 5?

“Powder?” Lux asked. “Do you think… you’d ever go home?”

That was the million dollar question. Jinx answered as truthfully as she could. “I don’t know.”

“... They really miss you. And I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty or anything, because, you know, you’re an adult and your choices are valid and all that. But they miss you. I can tell they miss you, because when they talk about you… Well, obviously they didn’t talk about you until after I found out. And it took a while, but eventually Vi and Ekko opened up more.

“And then on girl’s night, when they were both pretty drunk, they told us all kinds of stories. Stories about growing up together, how you and Vi used to pretend you were monsters when you were really little. Ekko told us about all the graffiti you guys would do around town, though Caitlyn covered her ears during that part because she didn’t want to be an accomplice,” Lux giggled before continuing. “And they talked about the band you had, The Firelights. I actually listened to some of your songs the next day. I knew you were a drummer, but I didn’t realize how good you were.”

Jinx scoffed out a chuckle. “Way better than Talis.”

“Way better,” Lux agreed. And then she stopped. The room sounded so empty without the hum of her voice. “Why… Why haven’t you gone home?”

She knew the answer to that one. “Just like you said: they miss me. Except, they don’t miss ‘me’, they miss Powder. They want Powder back, just the way she was. But I’ve changed, Lux. I changed a lot. And if Jinx came home instead of Powder… I don’t know. I don’t know how they’d take it.”

Outside the window, Zaun’s neon lights thrummed. They could hear cars going by every now and then, the distant pulse of music.

Lux finally murmured, “I think… I’m gonna sleep.”

“Me too.” They snuggled in closer together. “Goodnight, Lux.”

Even as she said the words, she drifted off. “Goodnight… Powder…”

Lux was out. She was soon to follow.

And Powder slept.

#lightcannon #fluff #jinx #lux #vicait #soft smut #battle of the bands au #rock band au #my fic #arcane #face the noise #beat the daylight #this is my second favorite chapter

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daisyblog · 7 months ago

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Dad Mode

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry is overprotective of Grace and worries about everything.

YN always knew Harry was born to be a father. She watched over the years as he interacted with Lux when they were on tour with the band, how he would be happy to help when her younger siblings, Doris and Ernest were born or how excited he was when they become Auntie and Uncle to Freddie, Lucky and Olive.

But YN couldn’t help but notice how Harry’s protective side had kicked in at full speed once Grace wos born.

Before YN and Grace were discharged from the hospital, the new family of three were enjoying some time of being in their baby bubble. Harry was sitting on the chair next to the bed, his eyes glued to Grace who was feeding as she laid in YN’s arms.

“Do you think she’s having enough milk? How will we know?”. Harry’s voice was full of worry as he watched YN take to motherhood like a natural. “It’s not like a bottle is it? Where you can see how much she’s drinking.”.

YN glanced up to find a frown written all over Harry’s face as he was deep in thought. “Will you stop being a worry pants!”. She couldn’t help but laugh. “You know earlier when she came off the boob herself?”. Harry nodded. “It meant she’d had enough and she’s really calm and content when she’s feeding.”.

Harry’s shoulders relaxed at YN words, her reassurance working instantly. “Yeah, that makes sense…m’sorry, I just want everything to be right”.

“I know you do”. YN couldn’t be more grateful for Harry. “How about when we’re home I can express sometimes and then you’ll be able to feed Grace too?”.

Harry’s eyes lit up with excitement at the idea. “I’d love that!”:

---

Whilst YN was preparing for Grace’s nighttime routine, and cuddling the little one in her blanket, Harry was running her a bath.

“Babe? C’mere!”. Harry’s voice was heard from the bathroom. YN, with Grace still cuddled in her arms, padded across the hall.

“What’s wrong bubs?”. YN watched as Harry held the little baby soap in his hands, reading the back of it.

“How much of this should I put it? I don’t want to put on much…but then I don’t want to not put enough in….but I’ve read the back and it says a tiny bit…but what’s a tiny bit…it’s all too confusing”. Harry didn’t take a breath, YN could see the worry in his eyes.

“Bubs…take a breath…and relax…just put a little drop into the water and that’ll be enough”. YN calmly explained and watched as Harry added some nighttime bubbles to the baby bath.

After Harry checked the temperature was safe for Grace, YN placed the little baby into the water and they both laughed at how relaxed she was as she laid there, her small blue eyes piercing up at them.

After Grace’s bath, YN was sat on the rocking chair feeding her as her little eyes slowly closed as she quietly went to sleep. Harry was stood leaning against the doorframe as he watched his wife and daughter.

“I’m sorry”. His voice was gentle, not wanting to disturb a sleeping Grace.

“Sorry for what?” YN couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was apologising for.

“I know I’m being silly and too much when it comes to things with Grace.”. Harry looked down as he spoke.

“Aww bubs…you’re not being silly or over the top…you’re being a good dad and just wanting to do everything right”. YN reassured him.

YN walked over to be closer to Harry. “Here…take Grace and enjoy some cuddles!”.

---

YN was woken up with a sound of a floorboard creak, as she squinted and tried to adjust to waking up, she could see Harry’s figure looking into Grace’s crib.

“Harry? Bubs?”. YN whispered, aware that Grace couldn’t be awake because she usually cried.

“I-I…I thought I heard Grace make a noise”. Harry rearranged the blanket before he got back into bed.

“Talk to me bubs.” YN invited Harry to cuddle into her. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”. She ran her fingers through his hair.

Harry didn’t say anything at first, just traced patterns over YN’s skin on her arm as he thought deeply. “I feel like I’m in constant worry mode..I’m worried about messing up or if Grace is okay…I just can’t stop worrying”.

“I understand…but you do know that you’re the only person I’d want to parent with and you’re the best dad to Grace…and you’ll be the same with our future babies…so treat yourself with kindness”. Harry chucked at YN’s use of his lyrics.

“Are you ever going to stop using lyrics in serious conversations?”. Harry smiled as they were still cuddled up as one.

“No…now get some sleep before Grace wants cuddles in the morning with the best Daddy!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994

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m4rs-ex3 · 9 days ago

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trailer screaming part 1

say it with me now: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ok

i was trying to see ezran being sad but then i saw fucking corvus. 170% seeing soren and running to him oh my god holy shit

oh yeah yeah that's that good shit.

the way we keep seeing the spirits of those cave fuckers i KNEW that those things were way too cool/horrifying to go to waste and apparently they knew it too. also i guess zym fucking killed them

well oh my god that's so coo

WHO NOW WHAT

oh hell yeah fuck shit up bestie!!

i'm very happy to be back at the banther lodge, and i assume this is an impromptu council meeting, but i can't get over the fact that this is literally the last supper. go ahead and tell me it's not

a) i am so happy that aanya is joining the ez and sorvus gang like hello they are a perfect group and b) dunno where tf they are but CRYSTAL CAVERNS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!@#!!!#W!!

*kissing noises*

a) yay astrid's here b) sorvus, pyrrah, astrid and rayla in lux aurea... yeah i don't even know what so think about that

my. fucking. GIRLS

from "my heart for xadia!" to "for ALL of xadia" oh you know she's including the human kingdoms in that now

"we all made mistakes" that's fair but i don't think i like you saying it

making a separate post for the rayllum scene don't you worry

what can i say except this is the sickest thing i've ever seen??

why's bro just fuckig standing 😭

FUCK SHIT UP!!!!!

HELL YES RUN FOR YOUR LIFE PLEASE LET THIS BE WHAT I THINK IT IS IVE BEEN WAITING FO RTHIS DAY

noo the bisexuals are fighting

ok but this syncs up pretty perfectly with the teaser image (based on both the sky + the layout of the banther lodge lot) as well as ez parting the guards so my guess is that runaan has been broken out of jail (probably not literally but who knows), soren is pissed and wants to fight about it, and ez comes to break it up

also the rayllum scene is once again at the lodge and with different lighting so it either takes place before or after and i pray it's after

1) slay 2) i have no fucking idea where she is. maybe i'm just stupid maybe not. duren perhaps? idk

he's not happy but honestly the charred ends are an absolute LOOK (i see he's taking a page out of claudia's "dyed tips" book)

to be continued~

#i'm notoriously bad at analyzing trailers like horrifically bad so #idk #tdp spoilers #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp s7 #continuethesaga #giveusthesaga

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afreakingdork · 7 months ago

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Weak Spot - Chapter 69

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Donnie is anxiously waiting for this week's penultimate chapter with art by @aimike17

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

“The make-up artist canceled!”

You sighed heavily as you tucked against the wall you’d ducked behind.

“Last minute! Absolutely absurd, this is exactly why I put a no-show clause in their contract. We’ll wring them dry! They’ll never decorate another face again as long as I-!! This puts only the photographer and officiant on time, but without the proper preparation then what is the point?! I dislike excessive editing. I want our photographs to be authentic! If only I could-!” Donnie thumped something loudly and you heard other voices trying to talk him down.

You pinched your phone between your shoulder and cheek so you could check your ring.

“Don’t touch me! Of course I’m not dressed yet! Do you see how filthy this place is! You! That garland is sagging! You petulant pond scum! If you think for a moment I will allow you too-!”

It felt like needles were pricking your skin.

It was stress.

It was frustration.

It was anger.

It was all Donnie.

Your mate was breaking down as the wedding planner and you were stuck in some backroom at the venue.

You rubbed your ring and wished the feeling would connect to your partner.

It wouldn’t yet.

You needed to put his band on him first.

“Where did you store these flowers!? You need to get them into water, now!” His voice rushed the receiver. “Darling, I apologize, I-! LUKEWARM WATER, YOU IMBECILE!!!”

You could be out there helping.

You could offset the pressure.

Together you could bear the load.

Only your fiancé had mistakenly gone off the deep end after his visit to Lady Nagami for his final suit fitting. She had asked where he was going to stay the night before. From that moment on you believed Donnie had subscribed to just about every wedding superstition that existed. Not that he believed a single one of them, he refused to let even a hoax interrupt your wedding day.

Your wedding party didn’t particularly mind the sudden booking of a luxe hotel, but being apart from Donnie in this instance was a terrible one. The closer it had gotten to the date, the less your mate left up to chance. Besides being the titular planner, he had removed others from their roles because he no longer trusted the work unless he saw it with his own eyes. It meant he was scarce not only that night before, but the five leading up.

Now a wreck and several hours out from the ceremony, you weren’t sure he was going to be in any state of mind to enjoy the wedding he so painstakingly coordinated.

You wanted to be with him so badly it hurt.

Spinning your ring loosely, you knew he could feel it if he just had his matching set.

You should have been the one to propose, you thought then.

“My heart?”

You breathed in deeply. “You know what I have to say.”

“Know that if it were at all possible to see you, I would cart you from room to room on my shoulders.”

You smiled at the imagery.

“I can’t chance it.” Donnie spoke softly. “I will see you as you walk down the aisle and not a moment sooner.”

“I know.” You held not only your ring finger, but your entire hand.

For the first moment on the call, Donnie quieted.

You heard the rumble of others.

Workers decorated.

Kaleb murmured in hushed tones.

Old lady Nagami must have responded because there was a sliding ‘s.’

Raph’s bassy tones argued with someone.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. prattled off what sounded like an endless stream of numbers.

You looked around the room that smelled of oak and felt locked away. It was a glorified closet, yet there was nowhere to hook anything. For whatever reason, it had two door which you supposed were for amassing entrances and exits to get away. This was nothing more than a connecting nook and you’d squirreled away in here after texts no longer seemed to cut it.

“I love you.” Donnie spoke clearly through the phone.

“I love you.” That helped; he always helped. “Hang in there. I need you present when I get in front of you.”

“Oh.” The sound was rounded with a static puff against the line. “All else will fall away. All we will need is to follow the necessary cues.”

“Then don’t pop a blood vessel until then.”

You heard a rustle and just knew he was checking his tech gauntlet.

The silence spoke volumes. “What is it?”

“My blood pressure is a tad high…” There was a grimace to his voice.

“Have you eaten? Did you drink water?”

“He hasn’t!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. bellowed.

“Mhm.”

“Get off the line! What have I told you!?” Donnie hissed.

“’Weh weh, don’t tap my phone, son. I love you, sport. Let’s go play catch after this!’” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. mocked.

“I-!!!” Indignity took Donnie’s very speech away.

“Caterer’s here!” Kaleb called and you heard sharp shoes click against hardwood.

“I… need to oversee this.” Donnie returned, regretful.

“At least they’re on time too.” You told him. “Get one of them to make you something plain. For me?”

“Alright.” He relented. “Soon. So very soon.”

“Soon.” You agreed and lingered until he hung up the line.

“Big green baby.” Coral’s voice drifted in behind you.

You didn’t have to turn to know she was reclined in one of the doorways. “I’m assuming your hair didn’t cooperate?”

“Shut up!” She spat, clearly scathed. “I’m last up! Don’t rub it in! I look bomb otherwise!”

You turned to give her attention and she struck a pose in a lilac dress.

It matched the color scheme and you approached.

She held out for a second before she came in as if there was a secret to share. “How’s he doing?”

“Not great. He’s worried.” You showed her the ring. “Nauseous, dehydrated, and tinges of vertigo.”

“You can tell all that from that thing?”

“Yup.” You closed your hand. “The make-up artist canceled.”

“Shit.” She clicked her tongue. “We could get by with what we got, but…”

“Yeah, Don does the best make-up I’ve seen but…”

“Still can’t believe he’s being all superstitious.”

You raised your brow in commiseration.

“Okay.” She clapped her hands. “Contacts. Let’s gather up all the phones and exploit people we know! Someone will know someone who can get their ass in here!”

Your ex-roommate turned with a pumping fist and you followed after her to what you dubbed the parlor. Another equally darkly stained wood room, there were a litany of leather chairs. The entire room almost seemed like something out of a Chesterfield catalog. Off to one side, Nelson and another of your bridal party members were trying to get a foosball table to work. In a corner near a window, Eugene and one of your cousins were doing their best to break into a liquor cabinet. You knew this was a space supposedly built for men to busy themselves while the bride prepared, but it had been passed to you for entertainment purposes. It was the safest hideaway while Donnie needed to rove the venue. It ensured he wouldn’t run into you.

You sat on an uncomfortable sofa and watched as Coral rounded up the room.

She had this, you decided.

You’d done most everything you needed.

You were dressed up.

You were otherwise primped minus make-up.

You were free to sulk.

There was a sharp stab in your finger and you winced.

Before you could even wonder what was wrong, your phone was out and you were typing out a message to ask.

Donnie’s text of having dropped a chafing dish on his foot appeared before you finished.

You typed out affections and for him to get it checked.

You could have done that for him.

You should be with him.

“Where are the parents?!” Coral seethed in a voice that broke the monotony.

You looked up to find everyone now gathered and furiously at work on their phones. “I heard your mom say something about the gardens.”

“That bitch.” Coral gave a crazed look and turned it on Nelson.

He had long grown from the nervous man you once knew because he didn’t break a sweat as he typed into his phone. “That bitch is more connected than any of us. She’s bound to know someone. You go. I got things here.”

Coral stamped her foot, clear emotion throttling her before she hugged him tight.

It took all of Nelson’s self control not to drop his device as his eyes shot wide.

Coral released and fled in a way that didn’t allow anyone to see her face.

Nelson stood a lolling figure as if Coral had wrung him out.

That was new.

You smiled and knew exactly how you were going to interrupt her speech during the dinner.

Nelson rebooted and whipped himself into shape. “Alright! We’re looking for a beautician! What have we got, people!?”

You should help.

You should stay here.

You should continue to sit on this terribly hard sofa.

You stood.

You meant to go over to them.

The room had gathered.

Without you.

Getting that make-up artist would help Donnie.

You wanted to help Donnie.

No.

You wanted to be with Donnie.

You craved his side.

You didn’t care about the missing professional.

You barely cared about the photos.

It seemed like a waste without him.

You flittered toward a door without realizing it.

“Hey…” Nelson warned.

Coral had been minding you since yesterday night.

She’d gone above and beyond in her honorific role.

She’d gotten your favorite dinner.

She had games ready for the nervous and lonesome night before.

She’d forced everyone to bed at an appropriate time.

She woke everyone up the next day.

She’d fielded an incredible breakfast spread before you piled into a van for the venue.

Everything.

You also hadn’t been alone once.

You hadn’t gotten a moment’s peace.

It helped in a way.

Of course she knew you wouldn't want to be alone.

She knew you’d break the superstitions in a moment’s notice.

In this way, she helped Donnie.

You loved Donnie.

You also very much needed a hit.

The texting wasn’t enough.

The call wasn’t enough.

You blamed the ring.

He was upset and you weren’t with him.

You needed to see him.

That would do the trick.

If you could catch a glimpse of him, it might help.

Who was the addict between you?

“Bathroom.” You decided without really knowing where you’d land.

“I’ll go with you.” Nelson tried to rush whatever he was typing.

“Yeah, not happening.” You tilted your head and challenged him with your gaze.

He lived with Coral.

He sent a similar look right back.

The stand-off pulled your cousin in and they looked back and forth between you.

“I can go to the bathroom by myself!” You threw your hands up. “Two doors and on the left. If I’m gone for more than 5 minutes you have permission to restrain me!”

Nelson studied you with narrowed lids before he found truth there and nodded once. “Fine. Anything else and it’s not my neck.”

“Yeah…” You turned and yanked the door too hard to get away.

Two doors.

One took you through that weird nook you’d taken your call in.

You went right.

Down a short hall that led to where you’d once seen a bunch of men congregating.

More family.

Family was crawling out of the walls.

You heard a voice and ducked toward the closest knob.

It surprisingly turned even though you weren’t sure this room was being used.

The voice’s drew closer and you closed yourself inside.

Your hand loosened as you took in the space.

It had a dreamy lilac tint to it and fine dust particles filtered through light pouring through the window panes. For a room that appeared neglected, there was also a sense of purpose. Fine wood furniture came in a matching set and was arranged like a set piece. You walked into it and felt like cameras could line the wall you had come in from to shoot this period piece. It would run on black and white televisions across America and you trailed a doily sitting on an end table. It was marked with a piece of aged porcelain that had finely painted details. You followed its pointed handle toward a mantle and looked over the scant knick-knacks there.

This was a room for photographs.

You knew your venue served all sorts of clientele. It had been part of the spiel during the initial interview. It was a conversation that had turned into a battle of wills between the employee and Donnie, but it had worked out. Their garden space was a stunning one and it was the rare moment during the many appointments where Donnie had taken a moment that wasn’t calculated. You could both foresee yourselves exchanging vows here and that was all that mattered.

You took one last stale breath.

You shouldn’t have felt settled.

You looked down at your hand.

Donnie was momentarily pacified.

Something was going right.

Each minute took you closer to one another.

A silly agreement in the scheme of things, it was yet another page in your life together.

You’d be alright not seeing your mate for now.

Today was good.

You felt buoyed and headed towards the door.

You’d make a pit stop in the hair dresser’s room and see how things were going.

You could see what make-up was in the vanity you had seen there.

You rounded a chair to leave when a disc of blue light appeared in front of the door.

Leo clad in a suit with an untied tie hanging around his neck then stepped through talking backwards through it. “No, there’s protocol! They’re separate, but they aren’t! Just like how hair is attached to your head! You know? Where the face is!? You need to talk to the hair person, you can’t just drop a make-up artist on them and expect-!”

He tried to stall, but both his legs hit the ground due to momentum.

He looked up at the ceiling and toward a corner of the room you weren’t in. “The hell? This isn’t the prep room! This place is a maze, I swear-!”

He rounded your direction and you only watched as he caught sight of you.

The portal behind him disappeared.

You knew the look on his face and gave a smug smile.

You’d seen yourself in a mirror not too long ago.

You knew you looked good.

Dressed in expertly tailored finery, you were a vision.

You supposed make-up was the finishing touch that would enhance the image, but still.

You’d gone through the whole process of getting ready otherwise.

You’d be standing beside Donatello after all.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Leo tipped his head with an appreciative eye. “If you took my breath away, think of what you’re going to do to that jackass.”

“There’s a bet on whether he’ll cry or not.”

“Oh, don’t you know? I’m running it.” He had a scoundrel’s smile as he walked over. “You pulling a Julie Roberts?”

He made it obvious he was checking your footwear and you tutted him. “You watch too many movies.”

Leo mimed jogging. “Then you’ll know how prepared I am for this wedding!”

“What’d you watch?”

Leo made an excited trill and held up his fingers to count. “Four Weddings and a Funeral, My Best Friend's Wedding, The Wedding Singer, The Wedding Planner, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and Mamma Mia! Duh!"

“Missing a few key ones.”

Leo scoffed so loud you could see the spittle in the air.

“Found a make-up artist?” You folded your arms.

“Yeah, me.” Leo waved his hands dismissively.

“No.”

“Yes.” Leo chirped like a know-it-all.

“You cannot do make-up.”

“I absolutely can.” In a swing of his arm, his phone appeared along with photos already up of drag performers. “Long story, but I helped out with some shows because I needed a hospital hook-up.”

“Show me yours.” You demanded and stalked towards him.

He pulled his device back only for a second before it was in your hands.

There you saw an image of Leo in a blond wig smizing his way out from the other queens he was framed with.

You couldn’t even laugh.

You smiled and blew out a harsh breath.

He was an oddity.

He was a pain.

He was a handful.

“You’re really our only choice?”

“With two hours, 27 minutes and 16 seconds, scratch that 15, or did I say 14? And, what was that? Like 15 people who need their faces painted? Uh yeah, I’m the best you got.” Leo pinched his device back up.

“Drag make-up is-!”

“Hup, hup, hup!” Leo held a quieting hand out. “I’m not trained. I’m not gonna pretend, but I have the steady hand of a surgeon and I know how to do an elegant, but understated look. I swear. You think the rancid raisin would let me do this otherwise? I did Mikey’s make-up in demonstration!”

You frowned deeply before you tore out your phone to text Mikey.

Within seconds you got a selfie of him clearly chewing something where his lackadaisical expression was contrasted by the soft glow of his skin and lovely accentuated eyes.

“Okay… he does look good.”

“Right? It’s not fair with that damn hair of his!” Leo was behind you and admiring the photo.

You flapped him away and he scurried out of your arm’s length. “Why do you need to talk to the hairdresser?”

“There’s code!” Leo scoffed and turned towards the door. “C’mon! Show me where it is! Clearly my portal map was not accurate!”

“Hmph!” You followed after him.

He caught the knob, but didn’t turn it. “You look amazing, by the way. You’ll hear that all day, but from me it’ll mean something.”

You slowed and studied how he wouldn’t look at you.

“If you weren’t doing the whole, on the aisle thing, I’d say you should have let him see you in here. I thought I’d fallen out of space time.”

“Leo…” He was so earnest his cheeks burned.

He chuffed faintly. “From soaking you in hand sanitizer to this.”

The dousing steam brought with it irritation.

He ruined everything good.

You would never trust this annoying man.

“Life’s a funny thing, ain’t it Y/N?” There was something carefree about the way he turned.

His smile honestly wrinkled his crow’s feet.

There was no deeper scheme.

This was just Leonardo Hamato.

At a wedding.

Your wedding.

“Thank you.” You told him with the same unrestrained tone.

“Yeah, well, same. I’m doing this and you pay me back by holding up your end of the deal. I want to ride out my pseudo-retirement on purse snatchers and the occasional bank robbery, nothing else, got it?”

You pushed him and he chuckled as he finally opened the door.

Everything flew by after that. From you getting your make-up done to Coral screeching as her unruly locks were eventually set, a photographer came through and began to document last looks. You were shot with family members and the party members now in a strict alternation in the garden. You hadn’t quite gotten to view the ceremony area in full yet, but glimpses of it through bushes made it look lush.

Finally, you were in place outside giant doors and a venue attendant came through to remind you all of the procedure. Music started up and the procession began. You watched person after person trickle out and away from you until you and another were left behind. You weren’t to be escorted out and given away, but instead you would be led to your destiny.

For maybe about the thousandth time, but who was counting?

Your feet edged pooling light and your arm was taken.

You stepped into the door frame and on cue there was a gentle gust of air.

It flittered a few loose flower petals from their toss earlier in a guiding line.

They settled in front of highly polished oxfords and you moved up tapered white pants.

Pressed with creases so sharp they could cut glass, they led into a similarly stark white tuxedo colored only with lilac accents.

You knew that Donnie had chosen to wear white, but seeing him in it now made the vision of him a warbled one.

You were getting closer to him and when your eyes met his, you felt the crowd fall away.

There was only the leading carpet and you walked it to him.

You were left and made the last step of your own to where neither of you had broken eye contact.

Someone was talking, you guessed, but you were mesmerized by watery eyes and a fateful smile.

Your finger throbbed with yearning and you reached out to adjust Donnie’s lapels as coyly as you could.

His arms ghosted up to support yours as if your breaching the space between your bodies broke the spell on him.

He coasted up and down your arms with eager digits that needed more.

Words spilled a backdrop, but there were only the two of you as he stepped in closer and tucked his beak into the crown of your head.

“I didn’t think it was possible.”

You tilted your head to peer at him against the proximity.

“I had every adjective to describe you, but I can’t remember a single one.”

A grin split your face and loosed a few of his tears.

He didn’t bother wiping them and you felt someone that was very much not your partner touch your arm.

The officiant looked scolding and mentioned the vows.

You blinked wide.

Your wedding was happening all around you.

You went to look at the crowd, but as soon as you caught Donnie’s eyes, you were alone once again.

He oozed palpable affection and opened his mouth for a speech.

You waited.

Nothing came out.

His mouth closed silently and his eyes opened sorely haunted.

He then checked with you before he searched his person.

“Left breast.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. leaned in from behind Donnie.

Your son was smartly dressed in a suit of his own and you wanted to appreciate it.

Donnie slipped his hand into his tux and pulled out some cards.

His hands shook.

Without thinking, you cupped to support them.

The moment the words steadied, he looked at you.

You smiled and squeezed his palms.

“A vow.” Donnie didn’t project in the slightest. “Noun. A solemn promise.”

He wasn’t looking at the cards.

“We’ll do the pre-written drivel last, but we decided to start with our own.”

You nodded.

The notes fell from his hands in favor of taking yours. “What can I pledge to you that you do not already have?”

“I don’t know.” You responded cheeky and the crowd giggled.

“You have it all.” Your hands weren’t enough and he caught your waist to pull you flush to him.

He took great care in placing one of your hands over his heart and held it there.

“I forgo this process. I have nothing more to give you. You own it all and this is merely a formality so I may say I am yours in yet another means. I would go through this hellish process a million times if only to sign the paper again and again. I would stand in line at the county clerk’s office as my purgatory if only to renounce my single being to a duo again and again. I have no speech. None of the hours I spent in writing it matter. Nothing I say will be comparable to all we’ve gone through or even the most inconsequential thing you’ve said to me. Instead, I wish only to declare my intent.”

He gave you one last squeeze before he looked out at the crowd.

“You wretches!” His fangs glistened as he grinned with every fiber of his being. “However you are known to me by association or cruel fate, I pledge thus…”

He left you completely and stared out as if someone would defy him.

You were sure there were reactions, but you couldn’t look away from your mate.

He was yours.

“Let it be known, from the moment I hatched to my dying breath-” Donatello turned toward you. “I was destined, am, and will forever be yours. In all forms and states of mind. In yours as well.”

You held your hand out to coax him back.

He took it, suave, and brought it to his lips, but did not kiss. “I love you.”

You signed it back and he scolded you by slipping back into his spot with a gentle nudge to your hip with his.

Anticlimactic, he addressed the officiant who didn’t seem to realize that was the end.

You knew.

They were words that in no other realm would he ever state so publically.

To anyone, no matter how close.

Only now.

Only for you.

You responded.

You said your vows and heard none of them.

You’d practiced them so many times you would be able to repeat them in the next lifetime.

They felt meaningless.

You weren’t even sure Donnie was hearing them.

He was only watching you.

For all intents and purposes, this event was already over.

Then came the classic lines.

To have and to hold from this day forward

You scarcely heard the officiant struggle.

For better, for worse

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. produced a ring.

For richer, for poorer.

Words.

In sickness and in health.

You didn’t need them.

To love and to cherish.

Action.

Until death do us part.

It was useless.

Donnie only mimed putting your ring on.

You had been wearing it and it was never coming off.

His ring, however.

Three nights ago you had imbued it with a drop of your blood.

Its mere existence had put Donnie on edge.

He wanted to wear it.

If anyone else chanced putting it on, you were up for grabs.

It had taken literally opening S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. up and placing it securely within his circuitry before Donnie would calm.

Now you took his hand and felt how assuredly steady it was.

He brought his digit up incrementally so you could slip the band on.

The moment it hit his knuckle, he twitched and stalled.

He felt you.

Felt how you had already written off the ceremony.

Felt how you were hungry.

Felt how you had the faintest nerves about the photos you’d been taking while the spaces were switched out for dinner.

All wholly new data that had never once been truly accessible to him, he might have given over to it had you not one more thing to do.

The officiant spoke those final words.

You moved into a kiss.

It was a cover.

As your lips met, the importance was your wedding bands.

Between your bodies and with cheers all around, your left hands met.

In a twist and lock, the two bands interacted.

You had seen mysticism.

Mikey’s chains.

Leo’s portals.

Donnie’s construction.

Raph’s form.

But you had never truly felt it until that moment.

It rushed through you on a cellular level and felt like an untamed thing.

It probed your worth.

It tested your bond.

It saw truths you held dear and ones you hadn’t committed to yet.

It then convened with ancient unknowable counsels.

It deemed you worthy and withdrew into your mystical item.

You were with Donnie.

Donnie was with you.

You parted from the kiss and it hadn’t been more than a few seconds.

You felt lifetimes intertwined as his forehead rested against yours.

His entire knowledge base wasn’t exactly yours, but you could sense it.

He could finally rest.

He had someone else to bear the load.

He would never be truly alone again.

You were rushed.

You had no idea who started it, but someone ran up to the stage and the other’s followed.

Friends and family, if whatever had occurred between the two of you was too much, it had somehow translated outward.

Decorum was lost and you were swarmed.

Lifted and cheered, you were surrounded by love.

In a physical sense it separated you both, but you were not parted.

You looked over the jostling bodies and found Donnie’s eye.

He met yours with a wrinkled one of his own.

Your Donatello.

💜NEXT💜

My betas joined me with Weak Spot and they will carry on with the next work! @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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