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sayoneee · 4 months

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☆ CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

“i want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me” - taylor swift (1.6k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader. secret relationship: the three times u guys were almost caught and the one time u were. pre-tlt.

kashaf’s note: working on requests as well so dw!! again. i just like this 1 lyric from this song <;/3

MORNINGS AT CAMP half-blood were both weird and normal — at a summer camp for kids with godlike abilities, you’d think that maybe they’d be cut some slack from all the monsters they’ve had to evade and maybe be allowed to sleep in some days, but no, life at camp half-blood was a regular survival of the fittest regime.

or: eat, or be eaten, as you liked to remind your cabin.

maybe that was why you were notorious among ares cabin, but to the rest of camp half-blood you simply embodied an other-worldly discipline, more of a tactician than anything, when compared to the rest of your half-siblings.

“hey,” clarisse says in an undertone, nudging you as you take your designated seat beside her, “where were you last night?”

your hand stilled as you picked up your goblet, shrugging your shoulders as the once-boisterous table came to a stand-still, eager to discover their shrewd head counselor’s indiscretions, hoping for something to loosen your high esteem for them: everyone remembered the time the entire cabin was put on cleaning detail for an entire month to repent for the mistakes of one.

your penchant for collective punishment wasn’t at all well-received among your half-siblings, but well, no one had really challenged you on your position yet, so.

“in bed,” you said, slowly, taking a sip, “why?”

clarisse shrugged, spearing a carrot from your plate, masking her annoyance with you — out of all of your half-siblings, camp half-blood, even, no one could boast of a relationship as close as yours and clarisse’s, yet no one could be more opposite. clarisse was chaotic, you were contained; clarisse was ruthless, you were just.

“i dunno, i just saw two people on the roof of hermes cabin.”

“and?” you drawled, ignoring the blood rushing in your ears, as the rest of your cabin looked on gleefully.

“one of them was castellan,” clarisse paused, searching your face for a reaction — you were grateful for all the nights spent in hermes cabin, because if not for the stolls persuading you to play poker with them almost every time, your expression would’ve never survived under clarisse’s scrutiny.

“the other one,” clarisse pauses as if thoughtful for once, then pointedly stares, pointing her fork at you, “looked like you.”

the other cabins are also looking in your direction as the dining pavilion is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, before the table finally registers clarisse’s words, resulting in so much whooping and jeering, you’d think ares cabin won the lottery.

you snag a bite of clarisse’s pancakes, each word punctuated by a bite, “what would i be doing with castellan?” you pause, feeling the table pause with you. wrinkling your nose, you continued, “i swear, next you’re gonna say you saw us making out during capture the flag.”

you grinned as the table erupted into laughter once more, this time by your design. while everyone else went back to their original conversations, you’re summoning the memories of last night.

how luke had wrapped his arm around your shoulders and attempted to woo you with myths about the stars, how you had laughed and called him corny. how the moonlight had illuminated his face in the moment, when he laughed back, drawing you in closer, with his usual snarky response of, “you love it though.”

clarisse snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you out of your reverie. she frowned, whispering, “you’d tell me though, if that was you, right?”

“yeah,” you nodded, trying not to feel guilty about lying — clarisse deserved the truth. but it went against your agreement with luke. you tried not to think about how you’re essentially picking a boy over your sister.

like all things camp half-blood, if not careful, could result in death — like capture the flag, but did that stop you, or anyone else for that matter, in taking it upon yourself to make winning a matter of life or death.

this week, you orchestrated an alliance with hermes cabin, because of their numbers and ability to launch unforeseen tactics, and hephaestus cabin, for their resourcefulness. it also didn’t hurt that the head counselors were your boyfriend and his friend, respectively.

you’re standing by zeus’ fist, discussing strategy with luke and charlie, while your respective cabins go off doing whatever it is to prepare, when luke’s sloppily-tied breastplate catches your attention.

before you’re fully aware of what you’re doing, you’ve already reached forward to grab it, while charlie stares at you like you’ve been cursed by athena and turned into medusa.

“so,” charlie says, slowly, “anything you guys wanna tell me?”

luke is silent, watching you work, while you’re too busy focused on fixing the breastplate to notice the knowing expression on charlie’s face, one you would’ve been irritated by if you had.

“nothing,” you say, nonchalantly, whirling back around to face charlie when you’re finished, while luke gets swarmed by the stolls, “these things just bother me.”

“in general, or luke specifically?” charlie grins, that annoying, all-knowing look is back, and although reluctantly, you can see what it is about him that has silena beauregard so hung over.

“in general,” you say as if it were obvious, as if you’re trying to convince a child that storks are the ones to deliver babies, and no, you’re not lying, (both statements hold the same level of ridiculousness), “it’s the adhd — makes it distracting.”

“uh huh,” he says skeptically, “i’ll take your word for it.”

you resist the urge to shake him and question him more, but before you can toughen up and just ask, “what do you mean?” he’s already turned away, and capture the flag is about to begin.

“what’s that?” annabeth points at the tiny “L” on your necklace as it swings to and fro, finally set loose from the captivity of your neon orange camp half-blood tee, hidden under your armor.

“what?” you glance down, dropping the sword in your hand to hastily tuck it away, all the while cursing both yourself and luke for being stupidly sentimental. (it was his idea after all, though, you’re not sure how or where he got the necklace from, but you didn’t really care if it was stolen — you wouldn’t put it past him, especially since he was a son of hermes.)

“was that for luke? are you dating him?” annabeth persists, eyes widening with question after question — nothing can satiate the curiosity of athena kids, especially not annabeth, not when luke castellan, her brother, is in the equation.

“no,” you say, trying to catch your breath from the sword technique you had just shown her, and the gaggle of younger campers who have now caught on, looking at you eagerly.

“no to what? no to the initial on your necklace being for luke, or no to you dating him?” another camper chimes in with a bright grin, probably a child of apollo, and you’re so close to shooting yourself on the spot.

“no to all of the above,” you grit out, really regretting being nice for one of the few times in your life, because no one had asked you, in particular, to demonstrate sword-fighting to these kids, luke could’ve done it, but where your boyfriend was concerned, you were too.

“then, how come you have an “L” necklace?” annabeth asks again.

“it’s my mom’s,” you lie, “i’m a year-rounder, so it reminds me of her — before all this,” you waved in the general direction of camp half-blood.

the campers ohh’ed in unison, but you knew annabeth wasn’t convinced.

you sighed, it could’ve been worse.

+4.

you’re not sure when or where the whispers that your boyfriend had returned originated, but after what seemed like eons of not seeing him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to verify the rumors before dropping your sword in the middle of training and sprinting toward half-blood hill to see him for yourself.

you ignore the calls of your name from your half-siblings, as you were kind of in the middle of demonstrating a technique, instead choosing to focus on more important things, like if your boyfriend was even alive.

when you finally do make it to half-blood hill, and catch sight of your boyfriend, with chris and charlie in tow, you don’t stop sprinting, uncaring for all of the whispers from the other campers as they look on.

when you finally do come in contact with luke, you nearly tackle him into the ground, as he drops his backpack behind the two of you, arms coming to wrap around you to secure you, as you mumbled, “i missed you, asshole,” into the crook of his neck.

luke laughed, the sound reverberating against your skin, and you get off him, taking a step back. he starts to say something, “i —” but is cut off by you grabbing his wrist, and tugging him over your shoulder, his back slamming into the dirt ground. distantly, you can hear the rest of campers gasp, before buzzing with excitement. ignoring them all, you put your knee on his chest, bringing your forearm under his neck.

“i swear to everyone, if you disappear like that again—” you begin, as luke cuts you off.

“i won’t,” he promises, grinning as you pull him up. luke slings an arm around your shoulder, and you finally notice the jagged scar running down his cheek.

he catches your gaze and stares at the ground instead, avoiding you.

“you look kinda hot now with the scar,” you settle for, you know you’ll get the chance to properly speak about it later, but for now, this’ll have to do.

a light pink dusts his cheeks, and luke, looking up at the campers gathered behind chiron, then glances back at you, smirking, “looks like you gave them quite a show.”

you glared at him, shoving him, “i’m going to kill you.”

luke shrugged, wrapping the arm around you tighter, “the damage’s done, now i’ll finally be able to hang out with my girl in peace.”

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harmonysanreads · 9 months

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Idée Fixe

yandere!lyney x reader

cw(s) : yandere, lyney

wc : 2.6k+

two dorks psychoanalyze each other. might kiss out of spite.

“For as many hearts as you steal, how many do you keep?”

The smooth texture from designed cards is felt across the tips of your fingers, your eyes capture the patterns printed on them through the filter of silvery moonlight and the sound of steps falling in sync with yours assure you of the verity of this encounter.

You don't even need to look up to picture the twinkling amethysts, the widening curve of lips that never convey anything concrete and a sudden bounce in the magician's steps ; the visage painted in your subconscious like the motifs on the cards your fingers fiddle with in intrigue.

The chilly night breeze are but twirls of playful edge,“You make it sound like something else,”

If you cared to look up, you would've noticed the subtle dance of his brows. Lyney begins to walk a step ahead of you in the midst of his short speech, through prolonged scrutiny that'd rival that of the most skilled jeweler's ; you've associated this change of pace to either be in preparation for his usual trickery — or, in the few sparse occasions that go as soon as they come, a casual introduction of another subject to eliminate the previous one. While one could accuse you of reading too much into things, you've long since learned that when it concerns the eccentric magician, the tell-tale details will reveal what he will not.

“Oh really? Perhaps it's your mind imagining insinuations that do not exist, you do have a creative brain.”

“Ouch, only you could insult and praise me in the same sentence.” Lyney places a hand over his heart to cradle it from the jab, though his choice of words should indicate offense, the delivery makes it clear he wouldn't have it any other way.

“Why, thank you, though you're gravely mistaken if you think that will change the subject.” with a swivel of his cape, Lyney spins to walk facing you, his strides (albeit backwards) unchanging in confidence and only when your lift your head to lock eyes, does his expression lighten.

“Well, to answer your question, the ones that are worth keeping, of course.”

The magician chuckles at your eye-roll, “Don't play coy, you know precisely how I meant that question.”

Lyney hums in pretend contemplation, gaze still fixated on your moonlit form, the beat of both of your steps grazing against the pavement and making it seem like a strange parade. Your question holds substance unknown to the rest of the world, but translucent to the magician.

It is both his frustration and delight that you're never bent by his charming words and theatrics. Your firm stare and insistence on the topic confirm his suspicions that you're searching for something particular, something uprooted from the very depths of his soul and he could bet his entire career that you won't stop until you've wrung it out. The answer you seek is nothing he can't give, it'd be simple as well, but precisely due to this knowledge the magician opts instead to test the limitations of your patience.

Truth be told, Lyney never likes it easy and neither do you.

For a miniscule lapse in the boundless confines of time, it's as though both of your world has separated from the existing one. For an amount that'd otherwise be uncomfortable, all exchange is made through your locked eyes. Like a secret shared between no other soul — despite your better judgement, the realization sends a jolt of thrill through your veins and you cannot help but wonder if the magician feels the same.

Seemingly out of thin air, Lyney twirls his magic wand in a wanton pattern, small sparks of light clash with the moon's glow before waltzing past your hair — you pause for not a second, knowing their goal lies in catching you off-guard. If Lyney was given the chance, he'd spend the rest of the night in determining whether you looking back to the cards in your hands was merely an expression of boredom or a brag of how accustomed you are to his theatrics.

Lyney dabbles between the lines of reality and illusion as a profession, blurring them without his audience's notice to make them believe a miracle. It's a simple trick he's succeeded in transforming into an art, so he was confident you'd be privy to the delusion as well. Whether it's due to you doing the same as him or the opposite entirely, Lyney's persistence in solving the puzzle piece named you only grows more tenacious day-by-day.

Sensing the magician's uncharacteristic quietude, you abandon the cards to his backwards marching form and the cheeky grin plastered on his face has you wishing you hadn't at all.

“Ah, but you see, the information you seek is confidential and I fear for prying ears. How about you come a little closer, and I'll tell you the amount?”

Lyney's face is a perfect replica of the grin-malkin cat he adores using as prop, a cloud obscures the moon's vision from seeing the act down earth and the shimmer of Lyney's eyes become pronounced in contrast to the shadow. In comparison, your visage that'd scream ‘preposterous!’ if it could looks nothing short of a circus.

Your steps come to a halt in unison, a breathy chuckle echoes throughout the dead of the night, “Aw, why that face? I don't bite~”

You blink in surprise and suddenly the magician's presence is way too closer than you recall ; he bows down to your ear and the heat of his breath almost makes a shiver run down your spine.

“... but, I might nibble.”

You catch his impish smirk from the corner of your eye and if Lyney notices how you choke in the formation of words, he could snag an award for acting like he didn't.

“Are you that fixated on creating a scandal? Must you always be so shameless?”

At that, Lyney leans away with a pout, hands folded behind his back and swaying back and forth on the heels of his shoes like a reprimanded child.

“Come on now, don't be such a killjoy. I went through all that trouble to whisk you from that boring party and this is how I'm thanked?”

The magician's words are a drawl, each one competing to be more irritating than the last. You have to take a deep breath and hold your tongue from reminding him that the escapade had been without your choice. The world places limitations on all sorts of things and you're not morbidly curious enough tonight to know the extent of the magician's good graces. A beat of tense silence passes, Lyney takes note of your averted gaze and it positively irks him.

Lack of eye-contact means a number of things ; nervousness, insecurity, hesitancy, guilt. For a performer like him whose pride resides in keeping his audience's eyes hooked on his every move, such a gesture is bitter tasting. But when it concerns you, it pricks and wounds his very soul. Lyney's sigh is one of weight and it inclines you to raise your head.

“By asking how many hearts I keep, you hope to know how many matters to me.”

The magician takes his hat off and moves forward to place it atop your head, his speech is not an assumption, nor an inquiry, but a statement. You straighten your posture when you notice the absence of a smile on his face, the sight so alien it has you on edge. While his gesture may be plain to an inexperienced eye, you know that he does it as an extension of his affection. For all the valued items he keeps dangling by the rim of that hat, he surrenders it all to you in a heartbeat.

But you still hold your breath and as expected, the solemn expression of his proves to be transient. Just before the hat grazes your locks, he tips it back, gives the vacancy of its inside an inspecting look and does an emptying gesture as if to prove its.. well, emptiness. There's a flicker in his eyes you're not given the time to catch as he brings his hat just above your head and does the same depleting motion again ; the scent of fresh roses engulf your senses as a thousand petals cascade down from the hat. As if on cue, the winds pick up and waltz them down upon your form.

Here's the thing ; while you may pride yourself in being experienced in discerning Lyney's tricks, it becomes a task to maintain a straight face as he never repeats his previous sleight of hand. What you can try to do instead is search for patterns, patterns reveal genres and genres reveal intentions. Lyney is a celebrated magician of the Court, his capabilities lie far from simple card tricks, so for him to resort to elementary jugglery instead of some grand spectacle, it can only mean he's trying to distract you yet again.

You feel the weight of his hat on your head at last, shifting all the cards on your left hand, you raise your right to adjust its position slightly.

Your encouragement for him to elaborate comes in the form of confirmation, “That'd be correct,”

The magician's lips curve up in fondness, a playful hum escapes him as you resume your walk, him returning to stride facing you again. It's a skill he's mastered in the duration of your acquaintance, for the purpose of stunts apparently. You have your suspicions — but then again, who doesn't when it concerns Lyney?

“Very well. You accuse me of being such a thief, yet, I think you are the guiltier one between us two.” the errant strands of the magician's hair sway, his eyes keep you captive.

He takes the inquisitive tilt of your head as incentive to conclude, “On the topic of hearts and all, I must ask first, when do you intend to return mine?”

The night winds pause, your brain processes Lyney's question until it blanks upon realization. Your eyes dart across his face that is void of all teasing cues, his eyes glazed over and you can tell he's holding his breath. Any consideration of his behavior aligning with trickery is eliminated just as quickly, because if anyone were to want to understand Lyney as intricately as you, they'd first need to learn to be able to distinguish his flirtation from fact.

“... Do I have to?”

You find yourself half concerned and half entertained as the magician narrowly avoids being hit by a pole, him having to maneuver to regain his footing. Both of your steps come to a halt as your laugh echoes throughout the dead of the night. Lyney sheepishly places a hand on the back of his neck but that sight is all too evanescent. The signature smirk of his returns with enthusiasm.

“Not at all,” he purrs, eyes flickering towards your restless ones that have settled on his magic cards again.

“In fact, mold it to your will, toss it to your whim and hold it captive as though it's a supplement of your own, if you may.”

Your ears hang onto each of Lyney's words but your eyes find no courage to look at the mirth that you're certain is plastered on his face, you take the moment to properly inspect the motifs on the cards with some distraction from the shadows of the night : the grin-malkin cat, a miniature Lyney sticking out his tongue, a tea cup, a penguin and—

You're left stupified as the card is abruptly snatched from your grasp, Lyney bounces back a few steps and confirms to be the culprit. You brisk walk to reach the magician and that turns out to be your biggest mistake.

The card is at first held between two of Lyney's fingers, him shaking it left and right in provocation and in the spur of the moment, you take a leap. You feel the wind of the card being propelled upward, the magician holding it out of your reach. Your desire to obtain the piece of paper exceeds your awareness of the sudden decrease in proximity between you both. You shift to your tiptoes and feel the surface of the card, one look through your peripheral at the magician's smile and you realize a little too late that you've fallen right into his trap.

“Now, let's see, the question that started this all : the number of hearts this magician holds dear is the answer to this riddle—”

You expected Lyney to make the card disappear or shift higher if possible, but instead his hand wraps around yours and you find yourself twirled a full circle. The motion catches you off-guard but the magician stabilizes you by placing a firm hand on your waist and pulling you to his eye-level. You find yourself out-of-breath and unable to look away as the moon shines its light on you two again.

“—Placed above, it makes greater things small. Placed beside, it makes small things greater. ” the magician tilts your chin up in his preferred angle with the card, the cool temperature of its margin contradicting the heat of your skin.

“In matters that count, it always comes first.”

The faint rustle of your garbs against his is resounding, your own reflection stares back through amethyst lenses.

Lyney's voice is but a whisper against your cheek as he concludes, “Where others increase, it keeps all things the same. What is it?”

Your frenzied mind momentarily dreads the scenario wherein someone catches you two in the midst of this rendezvous, from incipiency to this apparent climax ; it's built up to be nothing short of scandalous. But the magician has no care for that outcome, inching closer, closer and closer. As if sensing the new wave of worries that fill your mind, he halts but makes no attempt to lean back, his eyes regain their usual shine.

“Quite easy, don't you think? But, if you believe it to be so, you'll be mislead. After all, that is how the simplest magic bewilders the audience. Blink, and you might miss it.”

The magician dives in and your breath hitches. Your eyes are forced open when you feel yourself stumble forward. The first second is wasted with no action, the second one you register that you have the card in your hand — pressed to your lips, on the third you notice the absence of Lyney's presence and the forth brings down all the embarrassment crashing down on your poor heart.

You pull away the condemned card from your lips, heavens know what anyone would think if they saw you kissing a piece of paper in the middle of nowhere. Your face flushes in the lovely shades of pink, heart hammering against your ribcage.

I could've sworn that I felt...!

The magic card crumbles slightly by the edges because of your grip, the prickle of its corners remind you to take deep breaths and calm your raging thoughts. You shake your head with vigour, but you're unsure if it's to recollect the memory or to brush it off. You're left alone to ruminate the aftermath of the bizarre encounter in the cold winds of midnight and you almost want to drown yourself in the darkest depths of the sea as recollections of your reactions rapidly pass through your mind — you can practically hear Lyney's snickers in your head.

Your attention is then grabbed by the catalyst of your current predicament, you turn over the card and finally inspect the motif printed on the card ; two hearts, bounded by a shackle and a lock. You trace your thumb across the hearts and your mind retraces Lyney's cryptic words. If all interactions, encounters and memories you share with the eccentric magician of Fontaine would form a pinnacle for you to see the truth from ; you'd know that behind the veneer of charisma and humor, Lyney hides something far less innocent. And yet, regardless of the foreboding creeping up your spine, you find yourself unable to snap the tether of connection.

Because as it is, that which is mysterious, captivates us all.

may all lyney wanters be lyney havers<3

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ein-ungeheures-ungeziefer · 3 months

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Ludwig the Holy Blade, and his guiding moonlight... 🌙

This was fun to design. I wanted something church-related with a sprinkle of hunter items (like his gloves, the blood vials on his belt, and the setting in the hunter's dream), and of course, Ludwig's sword.

No matter how many times I replay Bloodborne, he remains one of my favorite bosses, and I can never bring myself to tell his corpse the horrible truth about his hunters.

#Bloodborne #ludwig the accursed #ludwig the holy blade #soulsborne #bloodborne art #this will get a matching Lawrence piece #I'm having too much fun with them #my post

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bananafire11 · 5 months

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Squirrels, Squirrels, and More Squirrels

Summary: Daryl leaves reader squirrels as his way of affection. Set in season 1 sometime before Rick's appearance. TW: Squirrels being dead but otherwise, none!

Squirrels, squirrels, and more squirrels.

Squirrels outside your tent. Squirrels left by your laundry. Squirrels set in your designated place by the fire. Squirrels everywhere. At first you’d thought it was a coincidence. But soon enough there were simply too many to be a coincidence. Honestly, it hadn't taken you long to figure out who this squirrel culprit was. It was quite easy actually.

________________________

Actually catching the squirrel culprit, however, was proving to be notoriously difficult. He was sneaky, you’d give him that. It was like he moved with the wind, gone before you even realized he was there in the first place, slipping right through your fingers. But not tonight. Not tonight. You lie in wait inside of your tent, waiting for the soft crunch of fallen leaves or the silhouette of a certain redneck painting your tent walls. Tonight you’d catch him in the act. You would.

Just by the time your back was starting to ache from sitting in that same rigid position and your eyelids were threatening to slip shut with every passing second, the faintest of footfalls caught your attention. Your eyes popped open, alert. Just as you’d hoped, the dark shadow of the hunter passed over your ugly beige tent walls. A soft thud right outside the opening and the shadow melted away. You pulled yourself up and yanked the zipper open with newfound strength from your tired limbs. Now, you hadn’t actually thought through how it would go once you successfully caught him in the act. Daryl stared at you with wide blue eyes, looking reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights. A string of fresh squirrels hung from his belt, dangling low by his knee and his crossbow slung over his shoulder. The moonlight spilling in through the trees littered his cheeks and bare shoulders in a soft glow, giving him an air of gentleness that wasn’t normally present in the snarky man.

Your eyes flickered to your tent entrance, and sure enough, there sat a dead squirrel. Clean with only the small splattering of blood by its neck where you assumed one of his bolts had pierced. You bent over and grabbed it by the tail, the body falling limp as you held it before you. “Care to explain the sudden influx of dead vermin?” Your tone was a light tease, not wanting to scare the man away. No, that was the last thing you wanted. His throat bobbed and his nose twitched as he squinted at you, steely blue rolling over you in contemplation for an answer. His lips quirked to the side as his fingers played with the strap of his crossbow. “Jus’ help’n ya out,” came the coarse reply. He rolled his shoulders, unoccupied hand now rolling the hem of his blood-stained tank top between his index and thumb. Nervous.

Your head cocked to the side, resting your hand on your hip, “and how is that?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes in a dismissing fashion, “Y’ c’n hardly catch anythin’, so’s I’m doin’ it fer ya.” Your lips involuntarily formed a smile at his poor cover-up. While it was definitely supposed to piss you off, dismissing you as unworthy of catching your own food, your heart did a skip in your chest. He wasn’t completely wrong, you were much better suited for cooking and serving what he caught rather than doing the hunting yourself. It was something you never figured you’d need to learn how to do. “Hmph, I dunno if I should be offended or flattered,” you quipped. “S’pose I can find some use for these.” Daryl’s gaze snapped back to yours, brows pinching, “Really?” You nodded, “Yeah,” you flipped the tawny squirrel over in your fingers, “food, first off.” He returned the nod, teeth chewing at his bottom lip, “I mean, ‘course ya can,” he huffed and it almost sounded like a compliment. Hell, from him, it probably was. Silence fell between you two and you and you glanced back at your tent. Your not-so-comfortable sleeping bag inside was calling for you. “Well, I’mma get some hours of sleep in before mornin,” you murmured. You reached for the zipper, peering at him over your shoulder, “G’night, Daryl.” The redneck blinked at you before he fixed his posture and headed towards his own tent, “Mm, night,” ________________________

And when he’d found a steaming hot bowl of soup by his tent for him the following morning, he knew exactly who’d left it there.

#daryl dixon #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #season 1 daryl

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horrorartsworld · 3 months

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lovely how are u? hope you’re doing amazing, please don’t overwork yourself and take care.

Can i send u a request? If the answer is yes…HERE I AM

There is a ball/or like an event where we have dancing involved. There reader is in a corner of the main hotel hall, looking at everybody dancing, she decides to go out in a sort of garden or whatever you want, and there meets Alastor? Maybe teasing and stuff like that YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN- surprise me darling

luv u💌

aww you sweet thing 🥺!! i’m doing well thank you and i absolutely adore everything about this request! especially the fact you trust me with such a lovely idea, so i hope i did you insane amounts of justice with this one and as always enjoy ❤︎₊ ⊹

—————————

under the pale moonlight

alastor!f reader

no warnings for this one c: just fluffy !

Everyone at the Hazbin Hotel had came together in the last couple weeks to throw a HUGE elaborate party with the hopes of welcoming in more sinners that were accepting of their rehabilitation program. Charlie was all a buzz about it, as she loved seeing her friends so willingly help get this all together as she went to the highest extent of writing her own little speech for it (of course with yours and Vaggie’s help) and making sure to mention her little band of misfits as she would pitch it later on that evening to hopefully win a couple hearts with her insatiable charisma.

Tonight just so happened to be the night, guests already flooding in through the doors of the main hall, you couldn’t help but look around admiring the hotel in this moment of controlled chaos with a small smile creeping onto your face since it had never looked and sounded so alive in all its time sitting here on top of the hill.

Beautiful decorations adorned the walls and any crevice the crew could find, platters with food of all kinds to dine in on, jazz music from a band Alastor had mustered up playing softly in their designated corner, and a big scribbled on sign that hung over the main doors with the words “welcum” managed to some how weasel its way into the formalities here making you giggle to yourself as your friends were so predictable.

“Bitch!! Look at you!” Angel dust compliments making you snap out of your sweet little thoughts to yourself as you looked over at him then looking down at the white gown the girls had helped you pick out blushing bashfully as you playfully fanned a hand at him then covered your cheeks. “Oh stop! Have you seen yourself!” you attempt at reciprocating the energy as you gesture towards his short pink dress that flattered him well.

He chuckles brining you in for a hug before admiring the hotel alongside you with a smug look on his face. “I can’t believe we actually did this”

“I know! i think we really outdid ourselves with this one and i bet Charlie’s shitting bricks right now seeing all these people” you snicker in which he does too at this.

“Oh without a doubt, hey! Have you seen smiles anywhere? He’d usually be all over this joint kissing ass.”

Now that he mentioned it you started to wonder where the tall deer man was, attempting to look over the crowd of demons to no avail, Alastor would’ve been easy to pick out if he was here.

“Yeah i’m not entirely-“ before you could finish your sentence Angel was dragged away to the bar by none other than Cherri Bomb, a small ‘sorry’ was mouthed to you and then you were alone with your thoughts once more.

Sighing softly to yourself you noticed the band had started playing a slower song now, demons who had partners gathered to slow dance in the middle of the floor so elegantly with the lights of the chandelier above them casting a pretty glow amongst all their usual ravaging faces, surprising and almost scaring you seeing their decency unfold in-front of you.

Continuing your watch from afar a small ache within your heart erupts as you couldn’t help but wish you had someone of your own to share moments like that with. You quite pitied yourself since you never were much of the realtionship type though now that didn’t seem to be the case. Sighing once more in shameless thought, you tear your eyes away to stop the torture amongst yourself as you desired some fresh air.

Finding yourself in Hazbin’s small little garden with the few dead frivolous plants amongst a murky pound with barely any life in it, sitting yourself on a bench in the mix of it all.

The breeze being the only nice thing as it lightly brushed through your hair and dress as you looked up at Hell’s moon for a moment as you still pondered the thought of love.

“Running away from our problems are we?”

You jump startled slipping off the bench and onto the hard ground making you huff as you stare up at the smiling bastard.

“Gosh…I must say you look quite good from down there my dear~” his voice low and oddly somewhat playful as he appears next to you in his usual attire that seemed almost too fitting for the occasion.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself” huffing once more as you scrunch your eyebrows at him, you wanted ever so badly to give him a piece of your mind, but you knew it wouldn’t do you any good in this moment since it seemed with the weight of your dress you could barley get yourself up.

He chuckles seeing your predicament as you plop around the floor before you finally give up not daring to look up at him for help as your cheeks burn from embarrassment.

“Do you need assistance darling?~”

“No” you grumble crossing your arms as he waits patiently for a moment before you say, “alright maybe i do..”

A mischievous glint passes through his eyes as you finally look back up at him shivering slightly when seeing it.

“Beg for it~”

The wind practically knocked out of you as he said it so huskily. “w-what?”

“You heard me my dear….i want you to beg for my help, it’s not that difficult to comprehend~” he teased with his eyes squinting down at you as if demanding you to do it now.

Your cheeks were on fire as your mind scrabbled with what to do, though it was painstakingly obvious.

Once your mind was right you suddenly grab his hand with your upper body pressed up against his leg giving him the best pleading eyes you could muster as you say, “p-please help me alastor~” in the sweetest voice that had him squeezing your hand.

He then pulls you up to your feet with a surprising amount of strength making you teeter about before you catch your balance once more, his hand staying in yours.

(cue the music!! ⤵️)

There’s a sudden silence that falls between the both of you with the only sound being from the soft tunes of the jazz band pouring from the windows of the hotel.

Alastor without warning grabs your hand tighter as he pulls you toward his chest, discarding his microphone for the spare of the moment without care, then rests that hand on your hip.

The sudden movements catching you off guard making your heart race a little with both the close proximity and the feeling of his touch.

“I think you deserve a dance for all my trouble tonight~”

“O-oh nonono Alastor- I can’t dance” you say bashfully trying to pull away with no budge.

“I won’t take no for an answer~” his voice stern as he keeps a hold on you as he then starts to guide you with his movements. Delicately swaying back and forth.

At first you looked like a new born bird trying to fly but eventually you started flowing along with Alastor, becoming way more comfortable with yourself. The two of you glided along the grass of the garden underneath the spotlight of the moon. You then lightly rest your head against his chest feeling the vibrations of his humming along with the song that seemed to comfort you as you shut your eyes to take it all in.

Because for some reason it seemed so perfect to you. Like you’ve finally found what you’ve been missing for all this time.

You open your eyes once more meeting Alastor’s as you softly spoke out to him,

“Alastor?”

“Yes my dear?~”

“How come i didn’t see you at the party this evening?”

“Well….because i knew i’d be seeing you~”

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin imagine #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff #fluff

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ggomos-maribat · 8 months

Text

Tim Drake didn't particularly like the occult.

But Constantine said the two were their best bet against the demon uprising. The magic-user, howeover, refused to contact them himself, claiming that it was a bad idea to involve them, that they were better off dealing with the problem on their own than . . . outsourcing. Unfortunately, Tim (and the rest of the Batfamily really) was stubborn. If they had potential allies to help them, wouldn't it be worth to take the risk?

This mission to contact those people then dragged him to a downtown bar to talk to famous designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who he was ninety-five percent sure was one of the two Constantine was talking about.

Tim told himself that perhaps a little bit of sweet-talking would do. His hand inched closer to hers on the tabletop, but she immediately pulled away. "This night has been fun, Monsieur Drake." She smiled sweetly. "But I don't think my husband will appreciate me staying out late."

She showed him a glowing band on her finger, which Tim completely missed when they met. He, too, pulled away, cheeks turning pink. "Uhh, yeah, sorry 'bout that. Don't let me keep you."

Although Marinette had slipped out, he still had a mission to do.

He decided to follow her.

He knew of her potential danger, signified by the fact that she was walking on a dark, deserted, Gotham street by herself. He held his breath when she stopped right below a flickering lamppost.

She turned around, plump red lips stretching into a sinister smile. "That's quite sneaky of you, Monsieur Drake. Why don't you be direct with what you want, hm?"

And he took a step out of the shadows, dropping his act. "We need your help."

"Who told you about me?"

". . . John Constantine."

Her nose wrinkled. "That soul-whore? Figures."

Tim definitely didn't show it, but the way she stood, her mere presence was unnerving like a beast waiting to pounce. But at the same time, she was so unfairly beautiful even in the darkness.

Marinette smoothed down her hair. "What makes you think we're willing to help?"

Tim's eyebrows raised. "'We'?"

A sudden chill arrived with the wind, summoning goosebumps all over his skin. The lamp switched off in a blink, and when it turned on again, a shadow had appeared beside Marinette, which morphed into a human. Or at least he thought it was a human.

"Yes, 'we'," a new voice said. "She and her husband."

Fuck. The man was dressed in elegant clothes, a perfect match with his wife. His hair was slicked back but with strands softly falling on top of his ethereal eyes. Tim swore those were fangs under his pale lips, sharp like the gaze he was shooting at him. Both his deep blue eyes and Marinette's seemed to shine under the moonlight.

Tim was officially scared. He never did like the occult, but goddamn, the occult was causing his bi-panic.

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #maribat marinette dupain cheng #dc x miraculous #danny phantom au #ggomo's prompts #stories ggomo will never write #tim drake/marinette dupain-cheng/danny fenton #marinette and danny are married #heheehhe #such a persistent brainrot in my head but alas i've got too many wips #if someone writes this i will love you forever

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the-kr8tor · 8 months

Note

I'm back! 🤭 can I get hobie who's friends with a goofy but oblivious reader. They're both crushing but reader thinks he's just being friendly(i mean look how he sweet he is with miles, gwen, and pav. How could he like me like me pfft you guys are silly). Like they match his flirty vibes and touchiness and everyone thinks they're dating but nah readers just like that and hobies like I don't know what we are but one of these days I'll just kiss them and hope for the best(if he did it'd be the shocked oh before the can you do that again from them?)🥰 It's totally not because I'm that silly friend who flirts with all her friends but can't take a hint when someone likes her unless they litteraly throw it in my face.

Hi hun! Thank you for requesting!! Sorry this took a bit. Hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x spidey! Reader/ Spider-Punk x spidey! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF.

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You're on a stakeout with Hobie, perched on top of a skyscraper, he sits next to you on the dirty ledge, eyes fixated on the two m&m's wedged between your index and thumb, the blue one is on your right, on your left is the green one, looking worse for wear. Hobie's eyes are glued on your fingers squeezing on both m&m's like he's watching his favourite band play in front of him. His arm is looped around your shoulder, providing much needed warmth from the cool air.

"Green's not lookin' too good, love" he says too close to your ear, breath fanning over your cheek

"We'll see" you squeeze harder on the candies, the blue one cracks under the pressure, chocolate spills over your fingers. "Tough luck for you, Hobie" you grin at him, holding the cracked candy for him.

"Best of 11?" He asks, grabbing your wrist, bringing the chocolate over to his mouth. You're sure he can feel your pulse thumping against your wrist.

"Told you to pick green" a smug look on your face, hiding what you're really feeling.

"What can I say, I like rooting for the underdogs"

Before you could reply, your communicator rings. Popping the small bubble of relaxation you've both created.

"Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds" Gwen's voice rings out on your bracelet "time to switch it up"

You sigh, completely missing Gwen's first sentence, Hobie retracts his arm away, disappointing you both. Standing to your full height, "well, I'll see you in a few hours", quickly popping the candy in your mouth, you grab your mask, pulling it down, Hobie stops you halfway.

"Wait" he takes a few steps towards you, thumb over the edge of your lips. Your heart stops, thinking he's gonna make his move.

You've been crushing on him for a while now, but you could never make out whether his touches and flirty comments are completely platonic or romantic, considering he's always like that to his friends. So unless he says otherwise you'll always see him as being friendly towards you.

He rubs his thumb over the tip of your lips "you got chocolate on it" Hobie wipes the last bits off. Definitely just friendly though, right?

"Thanks" you murmur out, heat rising on your cheeks.

For Hobie though, he almost kissed you right there and then, with how the moonlight shines overhead bathing you in its glow, how could he not? He's sure your lips would taste of chocolate if he did. But he stops, realizing it's probably not the right time since you're both standing on a dirty rooftop. He wants to make it perfect for you and finally cement your relationship.

Hobie taps your covered cheek fondly, "watch your back"

"You watch yours" you pat his chest, Hobie's breathing stops for a second.

Hobie drops and swings away towards the other stakeout location before he could cave in and actually kiss you.

You turn your back, swinging towards your designated location. Dropping down next to Gwen. She's looking through her binoculars watching and waiting for the anomaly to appear.

"Finally, took your sweet time with loverboy" She tosses the binoculars, you fumble with it for a second before you catch it. Her hands are poised on her hips, head tilted accusingly to you.

"He's not my 'loverboy'. He's just a friend" you look through the binoculars, hiding how her comment flustered you.

"Mm-hmm sure, friends definitely look at eachother like that. And they definitely feed each other chocolates from your fingers"

You move your neck a little bit too fast, eyes widening at her. "You were listening in?"

"Hey, not my fault!" Her hands are up in a surrender "you do know our communicators are all on and connected for this mission, right?"

"Oh my god!" You squeak out, hands flying towards your face in embarrassment. "Why didn't you tell us?" You peak through your fingers.

"I tried to! But Lyla stopped us, she said something about friends to lovers, slowburn seventy k or whatever that means"

"Us?! Pav heard too?!" You move your hands over your head, wishing invisibility is in your arsenal of spidey powers. You look at your bracelet.

"Don't worry Lyla turned it off now, she said there's no drama anymore since you're not partnered up now" Gwen reassures you. "It's okay! We all know you're together" she puts a comforting hand on your back, patting it softly.

Your eyes almost pop out of its sockets, mouth agape "we're not together!"

"What?" Gwen chuckles "you sure?"

"Why? Did he say something?" Hope sparks in your chest. Were you in a relationship this entire time? It's not that you'll protest against it, hell you'll even welcome it, saves you the awkward 'asking him out' part. Were you that dense?

"No, with how touchy you both are, we all thought you were together" Gwen shrugs.

"Huh?! What do you mean everyone?!"

"Everyone, the entire spider society. Honestly Miguel's been thinking about setting up an HR department because of your pda"

You crumble to your feet, embarrassment flooding your body. Sure you're also very affectionate to your friends, especially Hobie, but you never thought in a million years that people actually thought you're together.

Meanwhile, Pavitr's been gushing to Hobie about what he heard (and seen, he and Gwen might've glanced your way for a bit) between the two of you.

"You two were so cute!" Pav shakes Hobie's arm.

"Yeah, yeah" if he squints hard enough, he can see you talking to Gwen. "You didn't even bother telling us about the communicator?"

Pav stops in his tracks, chuckling while rubbing the back of his neck "I tried to, bro! But Lyla said It's important for the mission"

"Sure" that's not new, Lyla has been trying to finally get you two together for a while now. He sees you drop to your knees, but he can't make out why you're on the floor.

As if Pavitr senses Hobie's feelings, he pipes up "don't worry, they like you too. Just tell it to them straight"

"I know they like me too, I just don't know what we are"

"Dude, everyone already thinks you're dating, they're just a bit dense, no offense"

Hobie scoffs "don't care what they think" he stops, looking at Pav with a confused look. "What do you mean dense?"

"I didn't mean it in a bad way! It's just– I don't think they know that you like them" Pavitr bounces on the balls of his feet.

Huh, so that's why you've never initiated anything, or even told me you like me. Hobie thinks, everything makes sense now. Your shy smiles and tentative flirting back fits right in like a missing puzzle piece. You don't know. He's never confessed to someone before, maybe he should just kiss you and hope for the best.

You pace around the small rooftop "it's silly, he can't actually like me, right?"

Gwen opens her mouth to speak but you keep talking to yourself, like you're trying to convince yourself how could Hobie like you more than a friend would? "Like seriously, how can he like me? He's like that with everyone! He's just being friendly y'know. You're so silly, Gwendy" you ramble on, laughing loudly, a little too crazy of a laugh for Gwen's liking.

"Okay, you clearly like him back" Gwen sighs, exasperated, shaking your form like she's trying to wake you up "Just tell him" She moves to the side showing you where Hobie stands on the opposite rooftop, his and Pav's body a small dot in your eyesight. You look at Gwen confused, he's a bit too far for a confession, but you throw caution into the wind, Gwen's encouraging words pushing you to just do it. Cupping your hands over your mouth into a makeshift megaphone.

"Hobie!" You scream loud enough to get his attention, you see him raise his arm. Gwen stands next to you, facepalming. "I like you!"

"What?!" Hobie yells back, mirroring your stance, he genuinely didn't hear you. Pavitr stands next to him, groaning. Yep you're perfect for eachother. He thinks.

Gwen murmurs out "love makes you so stupid" she taps a few buttons on her bracelet opening the line of communication for the team.

"I like you!" You shout it again, this time Hobie hears it loud and clear. He doesn't waste a second, jumping from the roof, he swings as fast as he could to you.

Lyla's hologram appears, a popcorn in her hand, she squeals "it's happening!" Gwen side eyes her, wishing she had some popcorn too. She stands a bit farther away giving you both space, seeing Pav jumping up and down from his roof.

Hobie lands breathlessly in front of you, hands waiting to break that barrier between you.

"Hi" you smile shyly.

"Hi" He cups your face in his hands, carefully sliding off your mask until he can see you in all your glory. "There you are"

"Here I am" you could only manage to bracelet his wrists with your hands, breathing matching his.

Hobie bites the bullet, "can I?" Tapping your lips with his pointing finger.

You swallow down "mm-hmm"

"Need you to use your words, love" He needs you to say it, just in case it goes over your head again. Hobie removes his mask in one swift move, quickly putting his hand back to your face.

Gwen takes this as a sign to leave, swinging towards an excited Pav. Lyla's hologram stays to the side, eyes glued to you both, she ignores the fifth call from Miguel.

"You can kiss me" his affection doesn't fly over your head this time, understanding his actions completely.

He leans down, feeling your lips against his. You can feel him smile through the kiss, you both taste like chocolate. You loop your arms over the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Hobie chuckles. Melting in his touch, you take it that he likes you back.

He reluctantly pulls away for air, you look at him your pupils blown out, your lips shining. Tilting your head you ask meekly "do that again?" Hobie chuckles deeply, pecking your nose before he kisses your lips again.

Pavitr shakes Gwen's shoulders excitedly, "I did that" he puffs his chest out in pride. While Gwen's already thinking of ways he can tease Hobie.

Miguel's hologram suddenly appears next to Lyla. He takes one look of you both tangled together, yelling out "That's it! We're having a meeting about workplace relationships!--" Lyla cuts him off, sighing, her hologram glows a bright pink. Good thing the anomaly didn't show up.

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Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

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lovelytsunoda · 11 months

Text

proud mary // han lue

summary: now living a quiet life with their daughter, han and y/n reflect on how they got there, and all the good moments that are still yet to come.

pairing: han lue x wife! reader

warnings: this is a big one so listen up: mentions of post pregnancy mental illness, mentions of pregnancy and starting a a family, weddings, ignoring tokyo drift canon because I fucking can, (actually I ignored a lot of canon) han is about to activate a shit ton of daddy issues

I left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day and I never lost one minute of sleeping, I was worrying 'bout the way the things might've been.

big wheel keeps on turning, proud mary keeps on burning. and we’re rolling, rolling, rolling down the river

2009, tokyo, japan.

the garage was dark, lit only by the moonlight and the small lamps atop the workstations. han lue had closed up hours ago, and everyone was gone save for him and his lover.

“han, what are you doing?” y/n laughed, sitting at a table scattered with nail polish bottles and a shellac brisa light. “it looks like a smudge.”

“it’s a drifting car!” han laughed, staring through the large magnifying glass that was allowing him to see the design he was attempting to paint on his lovers thumbnail. “see, there’s the spoiler and those are the headlights!”

friday night manicures had become somewhat of a tradition. y/n hated painting her nails with her non dominant hand, but she also didn’t speak enough japanese to venture out and get her nails professionally done. when she and han started dating, he offered to do it for her, easing the aggravation that sometimes came with doing mail designs yourself.

“well, now that you’ve pointed it out.” she laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

they had been together coming up on two years. two long, wonderful years. she was a mechanic and he was drifter, it was almost meant to be. she stopped him from getting himself killed, and in return, he loved her unconditionally.

they were sympatico like that. she loved his sense of humour, his protectiveness. he loved her smarts and the excited way she talked, animatedly and with hand gestures.

“what do you say we get out of japan for a bit?”

han should have known this question was coming. y/n was a restless spirit, never meant to stay in one place for too long. in a way, han was as well. he could tell that his lover had been more restless than usual, either from missing home or needing a change of scenery.

“a friend of mine, his name is dominic torretto, he’s got this place down in the dominican republic.” han started slowly, unsure of how much he wanted to involved her in. y/n was his whole world, and what dom and mia would be running was far bigger than street racing in shibuya.“he called me the other day wondering if I would run a job with him. but it’s not entirely legal and I don’t blame you if you don’t want any part in it.”

“baby,” she frowned, placing her hand inside the blue light machine. “of course I’ll go with you. I never pass up a chance to go somewhere sunny, and you know that I’d go anywhere with you. what we’re running here with twinkie and sean isn’t exactly legal either, you know. I’m a big girl, seoul-oh. I can handle myself.”

“I know. I just want you to know what you’re getting into. you’re important to me, y/n.”

“I know.” she said softly, running her hand up his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder, gently kissing his neck. “so when does our flight leave?”

“whenever you want it to. I haven’t even bought the tickets yet. are you ready for an adventure?”

“fuck yeah.” y/n smiled, pressing her lips to his. “but you have to paint my other nails first.”

han laughed, the kind of laugh that would always set loose the butterflies in y/n’s chest, the kind that reminded her why she fell in love with him in the first place.

“I don’t think I have it in me to paint another drifting car.”

“then what are you going to paint on my thumbnail?” y/n laughed back, looking down at her nails and realizing that her lover had actually done a very good job painting a drifting car manicure.

“I don’t know,” han shrugged. he would deny it if asked, but he actually loved painting y/n’s nails. he thought it brought them closer together, built up intimacy in their relationship.

they were moments he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“I’ll just do like a checkered flag or something.”

“but you did that on my index finger!”

laughing, y/n turned her head to kiss him. “come on, you big dork. the sooner we get my nails done, she sooner I can model that new lingerie set I bought last weekend.”

“sold!” han laughed, knocking over bottles of gel polish as he searched for the bright pink he had used to paint the car on his girlfriends other hand. “drifting car? f1 car? whatever my gorgeous gorgeous girl wants.”

“I love you, han lue.”

“love you more, pretty girl.”

2010, monte carlo, monaco.

it was set up to be another sleepless night without her lover by her side, and y/n was having none of that as she wandered the deck of the comfortable yacht, looking around at the decorations that the crew had spent the day putting up.

she was just praying that it wasn’t going to rain.

nothing was about to spoil her big day.

she scurried below deck, past a half open door through which she could hear roman pearce’s guttural snores. fingers curled around the door knob, she tried not to make any noise as she eased the door open, slipping into the cabin.

“you couldn’t sleep either?” she laughed, looking at the king size bed where her fiancé lay, phone in his hands as he texted his mother, who the crew was picking up in the harbour in the morning before the ceremony began.

“got a lot on my mind.” han shrugged. “fucking tej won’t shut up about the reception and the playlist and I’ve told him a million times that it’s not going to be some crazy rave kinda thing.” the man sat up, gesturing for his soon-to-be wife to come closer. "it's doing my head in. seriously, he wants to do a club mix of 'i would do anything for love'."

y/n snorted. han thought she looked like an angel in the low cabin light, a halo glowing around her head and shining off her white silk pajamas, the ones with the tiny shorts and 'bride' embroidered on the butt. "how the fuck do you turn the best meat loaf song in existence into a club rave song?"

"the fuck if i know." han shook his head, hands sliding up her thighs as she came to stand in between his legs. "jagi, sarang-hae."

honey, i love you.

"mhm." she hummed, a smile on her lips as she leaned down to kiss him sweetly. "i love it when you speak korean. it's so fucking sexy."

the last year had been stressful. the dominican job had been way more complex than y/n had expected, and it took a while for han's old crew to warm up to her. it took a while, but eventually she managed to crack dom toretto, and two weeks later, han got down on one knee and asked y/n to marry him.

hence why they were on a yacht off the coast of monaco, the entire thing decked out in fairly lights and tulle.

"if you think tej is bad, you try getting in between letty and those large plastic ribbons on the back of the deck chairs." y/n laughed. "who knew letty ortiz was so serious about weddings?"

she was practically sitting on his lap now, head resting comfortably on his shoulder as the boat rocked back and forth.

han seoul-oh was her home. her safe harbour. she always felt safe in his arms, at his side, even when they were plunging into almost certain danger like they had in the dominican.

"i brought you something." y/n hummed, reaching into the pockets of her shorts and withdrawing the small cardboard packet.

"fake nails?"

"help me put them on? for old time's sake." she passed him the glittery white french tips, no doubt chosen to match her dress for the ceremony tomorrow.

"i can't wait to spend my life with you. and believe me, there will be plenty more manicure mondays."

2014, monterrey, california.

"daddy, where's mommy?"

"i don't think she's feeling well, poppy." han lue frowned, looking over at his daughter, who was perched in her little kiddie chair at the kitchen table. "i'm going to go check on her, okay? stay right here."

how do you explain depression to an infant? poppy jae-i han had been one of the best things to have ever happened to han seoul-oh. but in the almost twenty-four months since their bundle of joy had been born, something had felt off about his wife.

everyone hears about the mental health complications that can come with childbirth, but no mother ever thinks it would be her.

every husband fears it, too.

"y/n, jagi?" han tried to keep his voice level as he eased open the bedroom door. the couple had bought a ranch house in monterrey when they learned they were expecting. it was one of the few things they used their ill-gotten gains as a part of dom's crew for. "poppy's asking for you."

it broke his heart to see his wife like this, hair messed and greasy, red splotches under her eyes from where she had been crying.

"am i a bad mother, seoul-oh?" she asked, voice small. she seemed so tiny and fragile underneath the layers of blankets on the queen bed. "she always seems to cry when i'm around, but never with you. poppy loves you more than she loves me."

"what?" it was all han could do to stop himself from crying as he sat on the bed, gently running his fingers through y/n's hair. "sweetheart, what's brought this on? poppy loves you. you're her mom. she needs you."

"mia makes it look so easy." y/n sniffled, pulling herself up to a sitting position. she's lost weight. not a noticeable amount, or even an unhealthy one, but enough that her husband knows. there are many things that you can hide from the man you share your bed with, but han knows. he knows she's not doing well. "and i'm fucking shit at it, han."

"look at me, pretty girl." han encouraged, reaching for her hands. "you are such a good mother. i know you're struggling right now, and i know you're hurting but you need to know that poppy loves you so much. she was asking about you over breakfast, you know."

"i don't know who i am any more. i've lost my sense of self."

han frowned, brushing a few strands of greasy hair away from her forehead before leaning down and gently kissing her hairline.

"listen, i was talking to brian last night-"

"of course you were fucking talking to brian."

"-and he thinks you should talk to mia. they're passing through town today on their way back from dom and letty's, brian and i are going to take the kids out to the zoo or whatever, and you and mia should do something." he suggested, running his hand comfortingly up and down his lover's back. "go to the mall, get a coffee. i think she could really help you. she's been through this before."

y/n inhaled shakily, pulling away from han. "what if something happens to poppy and i'm not there?"

"y/n, everything is going to be okay. i promise. brian will be there, the kids will be in great hands. go do something with mia, darling. find yourself again, yeah?"

"okay." y/n nodded, still clutching his hand like it was her lifeline. "i can do that."

"mommy?" a small voice called. poppy had managed to get herself all the way from the kitchen to the master bedroom, where han had left the door ajar just in case poppy needed them. "are you okay?"

"oh, sweetheart, come here." y/n said, tears beginning to fall.

because how could she ever think that her little bundle of joy didn't love her as much as she did? poppy waddled over to the bed, and han hefted the toddler onto the mattress so that y/n could pull her close.

"you know that mummy loves you, right?"

"yes. i love you too, mommy."

"see." han smiled. "you're going to be okay. we're going to get through this."

2017, monterrey, california.

"i genuinely can't comprehend that roman pearce is getting married."

the family of three was walking down the nail care aisle at walmart, a welcome addition to their weekly shopping trip as y/n scanned the packages on the rack for a set of acrylic nails.

han laughed, one hand around his wife's waist and his chin on her shoulder as he leaned against the shopping cart. "it's not going to last. they may be getting married on saturday but i bet that by christmas roman is going to call and tell us she asked for a divorce."

"don't be so cynical." y/n laughed, kissing her husband softly before holding up a small white box. "do these go with my dress?"

"they'll go with anything, babe." han said, moving to whisper in her ear “they'd look even better wrapped around my c-"

"i want nails like mom's!" poppy han's shout cut him off, the little girl looking at the array of disney princess nails on the lower shelves.

laughing, han knelt down next his daughter, one hand on her shoulder. "which one do you want, princess? do you want frozen, tinker bell? mulan?"

"i want the ariel ones." poppy smiled, reaching for the pack of little mermaid nails. han helped her get them off the hook before lifting her up, carrying the six year old securely against his chest.

"seoul-oh, she's like six, you're spoiling her by carrying her all the time." y/n laughed, dropping both packs of nails in the cart.

"what, she's not heavy, sweetheart." han grins. "besides, i have to stay in shape somehow."

y/n rolls her eyes. "sweetie, it's bold of you to assume that you were ever in shape. but i loved you anyways, didn't i?"

back at home, they settled in the living room, near the large bay window. y/n watched contentedly from the kitchen as han sat at the coffee table across from poppy, delicately brushing nail glue across his daughter's tiny nails, dropping the glittery little mermaid nails on top.

it had taken a while to get to this peaceful, quiet part of their life, but y/n han was so glad that they had made it. that she had seoul-oh and that she had little poppy.

"be careful with your nails, they might come off. now, go get your homework done before we make the pizza, okay?"

poppy scurried off down the hall to her room, and y/n padded across the shag carpet, looping her arms around her husbands neck as she gave him a kiss.

"i'm so lucky, you know that. i'm happy and healthy again, and i have you and poppy. that's everything i could ever ask for." she said softly, resting her head against han's chest as the man tilted his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

of course they both missed the good old days. the days of adrenaline and adventure. but brian and mia had left, and then y/n and han, and soon after was letty and dom. they were moving on with their lives, a chapter of glitz and glamour coming to a close.

"i want another one."

y/n froze, pulling back from her husband. "what?"

"i want another baby. and i know what we went through last time, and i fully understand if you're not willing to take that chance again, but god, y/n, i want a big family with you." han explained, holding his wife's hands. "poppy is growing up. soon she's going to be too cool for dear old dad. and then there will be boys-"

"or she'll be like you," y/n cuts him off with a laugh. "in which case there will be lots and lots of girls."

"god help us all. my little girl is going to break a lot of hearts one day."

"and you want another one?"

"honestly? yeah, i do."

"then i guess we'd better start trying. multiplication isn't that hard, so poppy's gonna be looking for us within the next hour." y/n hummed, kissing her lover softly.

han smiled against her lips, hands slipping into her jeans pockets to cop a feel of his wife's ass. "i only need half that."

TAGS:

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @mignonricciardo @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @monzabee @scuderiamh @daydreamingleclerc @diorleclerc @oconso @cl16version

#han lue x reader #han seoul oh x reader #han seoul oh #fast and the furious x reader #fast and the furious #tina: the series by lovelytsunoda #han x reader #han lue #sung kang #Spotify

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delulu-sushi · 3 months

Text

Mikey-Kun Wedding/Proposal HC!!!

Sry I haven't posted recently ;(. Requests r open!!! (Feel free to ask for any anime, I'll see what i can do) Future Motorcycle racer Mikey ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Enjoy!~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ From the moment he saw you, he knew he wanted you to be his, his Sano

✧ After you guys have been together for a good while, he'll definitely start thinking about marriage and having a family

⋄❥ Although tbh, he would talk about it all the time, every year

✧ The first thing he'll do is slowly try to incorporate talks of marriage and family to see your reaction, he wants it to be a surprise

✧ When you answer with a smile, he knows, you're ready

✧ He will go to Mitsuya the next moment to get EVERYTHING ready - the man hasn't even proposed yet. He takes Mitsuya's opinion on color, designs, etc. bc ur Mitsuya's #1 consumer

✧ He will be super fidgety and start internally screaming when it's time to propose, but he knows you won't hurt him

✧ He loves you so much don't reject the baby boi

You make him the happiest man in the universe

❧ He calls all his friends to boast the new "Fiancé" status, and makes sure you're there to see his reaction

❧ He will immediately start planning the whole wedding scene and talk about it with you -> Late night bed talks

❧ He will start calling you "Wife" in his head, and blushes a little every time

❧ Midnight rides to all your favorite places

❧ He wants an extravagant Wedding to make it the most memorable day of your life

❧ He doesn't release the engagement to the public, and doesn't like gathering attention to his personal life. Fans are one thing, media is another.

❧ He will travel the world with you, enjoying your last months before becoming wife and husband

You went from his companion to princess to queen to empress to goddess, you're his everything

❥ The wedding is extravagant, and he makes you feel like a diamond

❥ A lot of white, but some hints of blue and purple

❥ LOTS of dessert, he has a dorayaki on the cake

❥ He looks his most handsome, hair combed how you like it, and a tailor maid outfit by Mitsuya that you absolutely adore. You feel proud that this is your man

❥ The moment you enter, his eyes land on you immediately, and he can't stop staring. The way your dress embodies your heavenly beauty, the way your hair enhances your face, and how the hickey he gave you last night peeks out a bit, despite the make up artists' best efforts to hide it

❥ He never leaves your side. He's not clingy, but he wants to spend every moment with you.

❥ Everyone is happy for you two.

❥ He sheds a tear when you get married and happy cries when you two are alone

❥ He has the first dance with you, in a beautiful garden, under the moonlight, lights shining on the two of you

❥ He records the entire thing and shows it to your kids when they are getting married

He's your world

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Kinda wrote this half-asleep... Would you guys like me to write this as a scenario?

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