#halo Valentine’s Day ideas

[kentnaturaltribrid]

Well, 11 more days till Valentine’s Day and since Halo is going to be 10 on October 12th, might as well finish the themes up. But for now lots more to finish. Lots of Feb things to still do and many more things left before then. So, for now it’s all just going to be quite busy.

~ Mola ‘Kudumee

P.S: since the 10th anniversary of Halo is coming up for the 12th of October might do something else if time allows and permits since there’s still lots left to do before then. Quite busy week it might end up being then.

Also, for now just a lot more than enough to do. Anyway, Lots more to finish even some More Halo stuff if time permits. In the meantime, very much busy & looking forward to the 12th.

[mangionebabymama]

Principessa — Luigi Mangione

Summary: Luigi has a surprise in store—a special treat worthy of a princess.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Fluff, and what’s more, Luigi is just down bad, so much that he’s crooning in Italian

A/N: A big thank you to @jazminemagione for giving me this idea. In honor of it being Valentine’s Day, here’s to all those that love hard, and that feel hard, too. Just another lil’ cutesy fluff piece.

The sun hung low in the sky, a golden orb melting into the horizon, casting streaks of fiery orange, soft pink, and deep lavender across the heavens. The ocean shimmered, reflecting the dying light like a million tiny diamonds, while the rhythmic crash of the waves hummed a melody against the shore. A warm, salty breeze whispered through the air, carrying the distant cries of seagulls as Luigi’s car rumbled to a stop near the secluded stretch of beach. The air was filled with the scent of salt, the sound of seagulls, and the feel of the warm, sandy beach underfoot.

For a moment, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, a secret gleaming in his dark eyes. He had been acting mysteriously all day—evading her questions, sending enigmatic texts, flashing her those boyish smiles that left her both curious and excited. Now, as he circled the car and opened the door for her, a wave of anticipation swept through her.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured, his voice a velvety promise against the salty breeze.

She hesitated, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Luigi, what are you—”

“Trust me, mia principessa,” he interrupted, his Italian charm caressing the words like a lover’s touch. Her heart somersaulted at the sound, and with a soft sigh, she complied.

When her eyes fluttered shut, he took her warm, strong, steady hand and guided her forward. The sand, still sun-kissed from the day’s heat, sifted between her toes as they walked. The sound of waves grew louder, and the scent of salt and something faintly floral filled the air. Her breath hitched when they stopped, and his fingers reassuringly squeezed her.

“Okay, open ‘em.”

She did, and the sight before her stole the air from her lungs.

A soft, inviting picnic blanket lay on the sand, surrounded by flickering candles trapped in glass jars, their golden glow casting a halo of light around the intimate setting. A wicker basket sat at the center, beside a bouquet of delicate pink peonies—her favorite flower, an ethereal symbol of young love, even more, a first romance. Beyond the setup, the ocean stretched out infinitely, its waves gilded by the last light of day, the sky now painted in dreamy shades of purple and blue.

“Lu…” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. “This is… stunning.”

His grin was instant, and his face glowed with something more than pride—it was pure and unwavering love. “I wanted to do something special—just us. No distractions. Just you, me, and the sea.”

As they settled onto the blanket, he unveiled the contents of the basket, pulling out all her favorites: caprese salad, fresh artisan bread, a chilled bottle of rosé, and—her heart melted—a dainty box of colorful macarons.

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You remembered everything.”

His eyes softened as he reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips with a dainty kiss upon her knuckles. “Of course I did. Every little thing about you, I cherish. You’re the most important thing in my world.”

Her breath hitched, warmth pooling in her chest.

As she bit into a macaron, savoring its sweet, delicate raspberry taste, she became aware of his gaze on her. Looking up, she found him watching her with an intensity that sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured suddenly, his voice husky, thick with emotion.

She nearly choked. “What?”

He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. “You’ve always been beautiful, but right now… you’re luminous. Like.. a goddess even.”

Her heart swelled, emotions crashing into her like the tide. Before she could find words, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss so tender, so utterly reverent, it made her dizzy. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a confession, a silent vow. When they parted, her skin tingled where his hand cupped her cheek.

“You taste sweet, like sugar,” he teased, his voice low.

She laughed breathlessly. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Only for you,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her temple, his arm wrapping around her as they watched the sky deepen into a twilight masterpiece.

Time passed in a blur of soft laughter, quiet conversations, and stolen kisses. He touched her constantly—not possessively, but as if reassuring himself she was real. His fingers traced circles on her back, his lips brushed over her knuckles, and his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. It was as if he needed to be close to her, as if the very idea of space between them was unbearable. And she basked in it, feeling more loved and cherished than ever before.

As the first stars blinked into existence above them, Luigi shifted, his expression turning serious.

“There’s something I want to give you,” he said, his voice steady but edged with nerves.

She frowned slightly. “Another surprise?”

He smiled, but his gaze was different—raw and vulnerable. Slowly exhaling, he reached into his pocket and opened his palm. Nestled in the center was a delicate silver ring, simple yet breathtaking, with a tiny diamond glinting in the candlelight.

Her breath caught. “Luigi…”

“It’s a promise ring,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers with unwavering devotion. “I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t care about time. I care about you. I know what I feel. And I feel like I’ve loved you forever.” His words were a testament to his love, a promise of his unwavering commitment.

Her heart pounded, and her vision blurred with unshed tears.

“I’m committed to you,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “To us. You are my heart, my future, my everything. And I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere, ever.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she was smiling, her hands trembling as she reached for his. “I love you, Luigi. So much.”

Relief flooded his face as he slid the ring onto her finger, his hands shaking slightly. It fit perfectly, as if it had always belonged there, as if it had always belonged to her—and it was supposed to.

“And I love you more,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

She kissed him slowly and deeply, pouring everything she felt into him. His arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly close, his body warm and solid against hers. His lips moved against hers with desperate tenderness, as if he wanted to imprint this moment into his very soul.

“Mia principessa,” he murmured against her lips, his hands caressing her back, setting fire to her skin.

The world faded. There was no ocean, no sand, no stars—only him. Only them. Only love.

Tag List: @daydreamingwithluigi @mailovesreading @wannabenugget @paolavallado @chipsxsalsa @fancyyanci @briarloves @straw8berry

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

New Year Kiss (Ace, Sanji, Shanks)

🔥Ace🔥

Word Count: 337

“10

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HAPPY NEW YEAR,” Whitebeard's crew shouted.

Ace was in the corner holding his breath as he watched his lover count down with Marco and the rest of the crew. He waited for her attention to turn to him.  He wanted her to look at him after all New Year was the time when lovers kissed right when the ball dropped. He heard from Sabo that lovers usually shared a kiss around the ball drop.

She turned to him, her attention to him, he lost his breath, taking in how beautiful she looked. She looked amazing, beautiful, like an angel. As the fireworks behind her created the perfect backdrop, the lights looked like a halo. He noted how her cheeks were tinted pink, she was blushing he assumed she heard the same rumor. Or maybe Sabo planted the idea in both their heads getting tired of waiting.

Ace slowly opened his arms, she understood his request, she understood what he wanted and walked to him capturing his lips. Ace could feel his heart hammering hard in his chest, as he kissed her lips. She tasted exactly how he imagined she would taste, of her favorite fruit. He wrapped his arms around her waist taking in how warm she felt in his arms. His other hand tangled with hair as he was eager to deepen the kiss and hold her close.

How she curved in his body, how warm she felt like the perfect puzzle piece just meant for him. They had to break away for a bit, panting, their breaths mingled together. He smiled at the woman before him, taking in all her features and loving how beautiful she looked. His heart was still hammering hard in his chest.

“Happy Birthday,” she finally said. “And happy New Year, I hope you get everything you want,”

Ace smiled at her as he sat down on a chair and pulled her onto his lap. “I already did,” he told her.

🎩Sanji 🎩

Word Count:257

Sanji was counting down till the ball dropped, he wrapped his arms around her waist holding her close as he kissed her finger. His heart was beating hard in his chest he wanted to share a kiss, a special kiss with the woman he loved the most. New Year was a time for that, a time for sharing and celebrating together. Next to Valentine’s Day, New Year's was his favorite holiday as it was a romantic holiday between lovers.

5

“Are you ready to share a kiss my beautiful swan?” He questioned his lover kissing her fingertips. She had such beautiful hands. The hands he wanted to protect he took how beautiful her features were as she stared at him blushing. She was the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. Most women were goddesses, but she was the most beautiful goddess even before him. 

4

He would pray to her every day, she deity sent from heaven to him, and he wouldn’t want to lose her. He locked fingers with her and glanced away feeling his hot gaze on her. He wrapped his arms around her waist pushing her close to him as everyone was counting down the final seconds of the year.

3

He moved himself closer to her, their breaths mingling she glanced away shyly. Sanji tilted her head, so she was looking at him he didn’t want his goddess looking away from him. Her eyes should only be on him.

2

“I love you,” he told her. He watched as her eyes widened and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

1

“Happy New Year,” he said kissing her lips.

🍶Shanks🍶

Word Count: 261

The party was great as Shanks was dancing with his beautiful lover holding her close. The beautiful orchestra music played softly in the background as he held her waist, he was grinning from ear to ear and held her close. 

“You know you are the most beautiful woman here,” he told the woman as he spun her around before capturing her hips. He knew the old tale about kissing when the clock changed but it was difficult sometimes when his lover was perfect, she was. He wanted to kiss her every day. He wanted to kiss every night before he went to sleep and start his morning with a simple kiss as well. He couldn’t imagine life without her.

“Are we still going to share a kiss at midnight?” his lover asked shyly and at her titled her back and kissed her temple.

“You already know that I wouldn’t miss a chance to kiss you,” he told her. He wouldn’t even dream of it. She made his heart hammer hard in his chest. He dreamed of going on adventures with her, exploring the world with her.  He wouldn’t let her out of his grasp. 

The bell chimed as they were getting close to midnight Shanks still continued dancing with his beloved as he danced with her slowly his movements becoming slower as moved both hands on her waist and pushed her closer to him.

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“Happy New Year my beloved,” Shanks said kissing her lips gently, “I wish for future adventures together,”

[lubdubology]

I feel like I need to apologize—I have multiple stories I’m working on for Logan but I’m just in a rut. I also don’t have a ton of time to physically sit down and write and I want to so bad.

But to spark some interest, here’s what I’m working on:

Worst Logan x reader Valentines Day story: reader gets stood up on Valentine’s Day and mutual feelings between Logan and reader finally come to a head

Old Man Logan x reader: a chance encounter in the rain leads to nightly interludes of increasing intimacy until Logan is forced to confront his feelings

Worst Logan x reader: Logan’s working as bartender when reader walks in surrounded by a silver halo and the ability to see his deepest scars

Worst Logan or Old Man Logan (I’m undecided) x reader: reader is a florist with an affinity for making bouquets based on the old language of flowers and helps Logan make an arrangement for Laura.

Logan (unsure which variant) x reader: less fleshed out idea where Logan and reader share their feelings via writing

I hope to get some of these out soon ❤️

[cdragons]

"La Vie En Rose" - Ikaris x Eternal!Reader

Summary: You and Ikaris are finally ready to take a big step in your relationship. The two of you hare details about yourselves to really show how much you two have loved one another throughout your entire existence and since the failed Emergence.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+, very heavy smut in the beginning, loss of virginity, Persephone!Reader/Sephia is demisexual, spoilers, talk of WW2 and its aftermath, mention of suicide, Druig and Kaety are mentioned, almost character death, author tries to talk about music but has no musical background

Author's Notes: I think this might be the longest Ikaris oneshot ever on Tumblr, with a whopping 9.2k word count. For context, I would go to this masterlist, and read the very first post. I would like to thank Grammarly for making sure I don't write like a hill-billy. A huge thanks to @ethereal-athalia for her help. A lot of these ideas could not have been done without her input. I hope y'all have a wonderful Valentine's Day! I also plan to make a Valentine's Day for Druig x Hecate!Reader

Inside the Ritz’s Suite Chopin in Paris, clothes were sprawled across the room. Your dress had pooled on the ground where Ikaris zipped it off you as soon as the door closed. His suit jacket and tie had been removed before you two entered the room. Despite how frantic your movements may have seemed on the outside, you and your lover knew that this moment had been long overdue.

The blue rings in his eyes thinned as his pupils widened at the sight of your strapless bra with its matching lacy cheeky-cut underwear and garter belt. After you ripped his dress shirt and buttons flew across the room, you marveled at the mass of muscle and heavenly skin by softly revering his body with your touch.

You traced every scar and line on his body as if handling a priceless painting. Ikaris sharply hissed at the feeling of your feather touch ghosting over his body. He responded by lifting you in his arms and wrapping your legs above his hips while he kept a firm grip on your soft, ample bottom. He felt your muscles tense before relaxing, and your body melted into his embrace as if the two of you were bodies were born to be together.

“I love you,” he whispered with each kiss he pressed on your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Ikaris,” you panted, “don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.”

Trailing kisses down your neck, your lover never took his lips off yours as he carried you across the living room to the boudoir covered with pomegranate flowers. Laying your body gently on the goose feather duvets, Ikaris stood utterly captivated by how your hair framed your face like an ethereal halo.

The sight was nothing short of heavenly.

The luminosity of the moonlight shining through the overhead window gave your form a celestial glow. Your divine figure, added with the contrast of colors from the blossoms on the stark bedspread, made him wonder if this was all a wonderful dream instead of his cruel reality.

Sensing his fear that you were only an illusion, you sat up and took Ikaris’ hand from his side to press a gentle kiss on his palm.

“Ikaris, I am here. I am with you. We are together – now and forever, forever and always.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, your immortal paramour felt a mountainous burden topple down as the relief of knowing this moment was not a figment of his imagination. His Adam’s apple bobbed as tears welled up in his iridescent blue irises.

Ikaris brought his other hand to cup your other cheek before lowering himself to plant a feathery kiss on your forehead. He closed his eyes – savoring the feel of your skin on his lips as he tried to memorize the scent of your hair with the fragrance of the pomegranate flowers surrounding you.

“Ikaris,” you softly begged, “please kiss me.”

And who was he to refuse such a sweet request?

Pressing his lips to yours, Ikaris felt you lower yourself until your back was fully pressed against the bedspreads underneath them. No matter how much his lungs clenched for air, he refused to part for even a breath of air. But you softly pushed him back. Ikaris opened his eyes – prepared to ask if you needed to stop. But he stopped himself at the sight of your lust-filled eyes with the blush on the apple of your cheeks. You reached behind your back and unclasped the hooks of your brassiere before removing the rest of your undergarments.

Time slowed down frame by frame as Ikaris watched you further reveal yourself to him. A part of your hair fell forward to cover your breasts as you lowered your head and fixated on your gaze on the silky scarlet petal of the flower you rubbed between your fingers. Scars and marks dotted your body from battles between deviants in the past. Ikaris knew he was the only man you let see so much.

You sighed as you couldn’t help but feel like shrinking into the shadows as he stared.

“I don’t…I know I’m not as pretty as most of the women you’ve slept with. My body is a bit…, and I’m not as willowy and lovely as Kaety or Sersi. Even Thena is so beautiful and strong. My hips have a weird dip and –” You felt like crying for ruining the moment. “I’m making this so awkward – I’m so sorry.”

Ikaris quietly sat across you for a moment. Then he tipped your chin, and you were forced to look at his stern expression but heated gaze.

“Sephia, your body…it’s lovely. There isn’t a woman or creature more beautiful than you.”

You scoffed inelegantly, but Ikaris shook his head.

“I’m serious. Sephia, I – everything about you is so mind-bogglingly wonderous and beautiful. I have thought so since we first met on the Domo. Who could possibly have given you the idea otherwise?”

You leaned into his chest and let out a deep sigh. “It was no one in particular. I just noticed that men continually gawked at my chest whenever we settled into a new location. They would always stare when I wasn’t looking. Sometimes, when they were drunk, they would tug on my dress and comment that I was either too big or too small. It’s why I preferred to wear their clothing. I thought I attracted too much attention from my Olympian Attire, so I hoped to be noticed less in their garbs. I tried telling Ajak, but she told me not to pay attention to their actions since they were only curious. But it didn’t stop until I told Kaety.”

Hearing your explanation, Ikaris’ hold on you tightened. Once more, he was in your friend’s debt. How dare those lowly men cause you so much strife? Had he known of your troubles, he would have ensured that those fools feared for their lives. But he knew if you were aware of his thoughts, it would only push you away – so he remained quiet.

Instead, he planted a gentle kiss on both of your cheeks and whispered to you how honored he was for this moment. His hands caressed your thighs, and he had your legs straddled on his hips as he made sure you were comfortable on his lap. He let you take the lead by wrapping your arms over his shoulders and groaned at the feeling of you pressing his chest against your bare bust.

The way he moaned your name made your stomach clench. “Sephia. Thank you. I will show you how beautiful to me– tonight and every night from now on if you’ll permit me.”

You nodded your head against the crook of his neck. You didn’t trust your voice to convey your love for the man with you tonight.

But Ikaris needed more. “Say it, Sephia. Look me in the eye and tell me if you want us to continue.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head to show your trust. “I want you to continue.”

Bringing you in for a heated kiss, Ikaris and you explored each other’s bodies with your hands as your lips were locked in a familiar embrace. He then trails kisses down your chin and travels down your neck and across the tops of your breasts. You wondered if he could hear how hard your heart was beating against the confines of your rib cage as you panted for air.

Ikaris used one hand to cup one of your flushed breasts covered in love bites and kisses. On the other, he put his mouth on your puckered nipple and swirled his tongue around the areola.

You slowly rocked your hips and whispered for more. “Ikaris, Ikaris, Ikaris – more, more, please.”

Your body was his paradise, and you were his angel. Everything about you – the perfume of your skin, the silky luster of your hair, the addictive scent of your arousal – it was both all too much and never enough.

Switching breasts to continue his services, Ikaris wondered if he could get you to cum without directly touching you down there. He felt emboldened by the challenge with the breathless praises spilling from your lips that were swollen and red from his kisses.

He traveled down to your navel while continuing to trace his tongue and lips across your skin until he stopped at your navel. Dipping his tongue into your navel region, your initial reaction was a giggle, but then he used both of his hands to reach for your abandoned mounds to massage them. The rough calluses on his fingers gave way to new sensations unbeknownst to you, making your laughter change to moans.

Arching your back, you called out his name with your sweet voice. “Ikaris- Ikaris! It’s too…it’s too much!”

As you arched your back, you pushed your chest further into his hands. He tendered cupped them before giving them a hard squeeze and then used his fingers to pinch your nipples. Twisting and tugging them brought tears to your eyes as the pleasure from the attention he granted to your bosom with the swirling of his tongue in your navel.

The feel of Ikaris’ hot tongue contrasting with the cooling spit from his saliva only added to your rapture. You felt your stomach tighten into an invisible coil as you clawed and grasped onto the bed covers to ground you. The coil became tighter and tighter until your lips started to tremble as your core clenched around nothing, and your mouth opened to let out no noise as your vision went white. Your body squirmed, and you clamped your legs to unsuccessfully quell the sensations.

Ikaris’ mouth traveled down to your nether lips as he removed his hands from your breasts to spread your legs and put them over his shoulders. Although the sight of the Eternals’ strongest fighter between your legs was certainly an arousing view, you couldn't contain snorting at the absurdity of it all.

Your cerulean-eyed beloved raised a quizzical brow to showcase his offended feelings.

“And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing right now, flower?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“I’m sorry-” you couldn’t stop laughing “-I’m so sorry – I just never imagined being in this situation with you – with anyone.”

He gave you a flat look for you to continue.

You went on with your explanation. “For so long, I have never felt this way. You- you aren’t the first person I’ve been with – romantically, at least – but I could never feel myself wanting to go further. It always felt like something was stopping me. For so long, I thought something was wrong with me. And then, after talking with Kaety and Phastos, I thought I might be asexual. But it hadn’t been until those moments we spent in the field outside the village that I- I felt a bond transform from friendship to what I didn’t realize to be love to- to this.”

You stopped laughing and lifted your torso on one elbow to reach him. You cupped his face with one hand, and Ikaris nuzzled his face into your palm – welcoming the feel of your silky touch. In your eyes, there was enough love to make the world outside this room disappear.

“I haven’t felt this way for anyone but you. It was such an unexpected surprise, but I wasn’t scared. I think it was because- well, despite everything, I never felt unsafe around you. Ikaris, the years I spent with you after Thanos’ Snap and before the Emergence were some of the happiest years of my life. I don’t think there are words to describe how much I love you.”

It was only when you stroked your thumb on his cheek that Ikaris realized he was crying. As Ajak’s most trusted and loyal soldier, he had an image of stability to maintain. Before his suicide attempt in flying to the sun, he could count the number of times he cried throughout his life on one hand.

The first was when a deviant managed almost to sever his spine. The pain was so terrible. It took the efforts of Ajak and Kaetlyn to stop him from bleeding out and close the gash, but not without a garish scar across his back.

The second was when you left him and what remained of the team after Kaetlyn and Druig left in response to the genocide of Tenochtitlan citizens from Spanish conquistadors. He was hurt and felt betrayed. He called you weak and naïve to believe that you, Kaet, and Druig had better judgment than Arishem for humanity’s future. While your leaving broke his heart, his sobbing resulted from the pained look on your face from his words. He cried for three days after your departure.

The third time was after he killed Ajak. It broke his heart to kill the one he admired and followed for so long. She wanted to stop the Emergence and stop Arishem’s Grand Design of the birth of a new Celestial. But to do so was to condemn you to a slow and painful death, and Ajak knew that. The Avengers destroyed your regained health when they brought back the rest of humanity.

Ikaris knew that destroying the planet you loved so much would have brought you more pain than your illness, but it was humanity that weakened you so much from the beginning. If the Emergence must occur, Ikaris was sure he could ask Ajak to convince Arishem to allow him to keep his memories. If he had, he would have been able to love you from the beginning of everyone’s rebirth.

But he failed, and it nearly cost him you and your sister. The memory Druig implanted in his mind would haunt him forever. It was so unnatural to see Kaety so lifeless, so cold. The sight and Aisling’s screams with Laoise’s cries made it worse.

The fourth was when he stood before Sersi as her frame kneeled atop Tiamut’s emerging body. You lay unconscious as you allowed your new leader to use your cosmic energy to kill the infant Celestial but also to use your body as a medium to use the Celestial’s infinite amount of cosmic energy to revitalize the Earth. Standing in front of his sister as she kneeled next to your body, Sersi was ready to accept her death at her brother’s hand. But Ikaris could not steel his resolve to aim his heat vision at her heart.

He could not kill his sister – not when she was the one person he could ever love as much as he does you. She was the only person who trusted more than anyone in the world. She knew all his secrets and was the first to realize his love for you.

Just as Kaetlyn was your sister, Sersi was his. And so all he could do was let himself be used to destroy Tiamut, give one final goodbye to his sister, and give you one final kiss before he flew to the sun.

Your voice broke him from his thoughts. “Ikaris? Are you all right?”

“Yes, flower,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“‘Thank you?’ Whatever for?” Your confused expression was so utterly adorable.

“Everything, I suppose,” he said while shrugging. “Sephia, you said you never imagined making love to anyone for thousands of years. But for me, it was all I could think about with you. As I said that night on the balcony, ‘I was made to love you.’ And I will say these words and show you how much I mean them for however long you permit me.”

Your heart sang out to his at his sweet words. You reached to pull him down for a kiss before whispering in his ear.

“Ikaris, will you make love to me?”

“Yes,” came his immediate answer. “But first, I must prepare you.”

“Has that not been what you’ve been doing so far?”

Your immortal worshiper gave you a lascivious grin in response. “My petal, this had only been the beginning.”

Your hands clenched his hair in a feeble attempt to get him to ease Ikaris’ feasting. But all your actions brought were him spreading your legs further apart. The feeling of his tongue flitting over your clit as he drove fingers to furiously thrust inside your cervix to the point of making you weep in ecstasy.

It started with one, then it became two. Soon, he added the third, and the pain from the stretch quickly drove you to a state of nymphomania. It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, and it was far more intense than its predecessor. You felt your body spasm for a little bit before relaxing into the mattress as Ikaris languidly stroked your walls to carry out your climax for as long as possible.

This wasn’t the first time he had eaten you out, but it was the first time he could do so without interruptions.

As your essence spilled on his tongue, Ikaris let out an obtusely loud, close-mouthed groan, and its vibrations added to your overstimulation. Your body’s nectar was ambrosia worthy to be tasted only by gods. It was addictive enough for an Eternal such as himself to get drunk on it and crave its taste for all eternity.

He removed himself from the bed before frantically unbuckling his belt and stripping himself of his black slacks and boxer briefs. The way his shaft sprung out and its head hit Ikaris’ naval region made your eyes widen. It must have been around eight inches long, and the sight of it made you unconsciously clamp your legs close. It was pulsing dark pink with veins running along its length, and its head looked so swollen and red that it neared to purplish hue with a pearly white bead of precum leaking out.

You’ve seen corpses and anatomical diagrams. Kaety was the more explicit one out of the two of you. She had no qualms sharing even the most graphic details of Druig’s…thing.

But this was the first time you saw it in person, and you didn’t realize men could be so…big.

“Does it hurt…being like that?” you hesitantly asked as you reached forward to touch it. But he softly grasped your hand from getting too close.

Ikaris chuckled at your innocence. “It doesn’t hurt per se, but it is very sensitive. And if you touch it, I cannot promise you that I will last long enough to enjoy it.”

Kneeling on the bed, he carefully grabbed his length and positioned it just outside your soaking womanhood.

He cupped your cheek and brought your eyes to him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Don’t think about me. Do you want this?”

Looking into his eyes, you drowned in the overwhelming sea of love that was his beautiful blue eyes. You admit you still felt a twinge of fear. But more than fear, more than lust and desire, you felt safe. What you shared with Ikaris was more than how you ever hoped to feel with someone. It was real – what you shared with this man was true and went beyond physical attraction. Your bond with him had only grown stronger since his return; nothing would ever change that.

“I’m ready,” you whispered as you felt the increasing rate of your heartbeat. “I love you, Ikaris. With all of me.”

He positioned his cock until its head had just entered you. You sharply sucked in a breath.

“I’ll do my best to make it as painless as possible. Take a deep breath if you need to. I won’t move until you feel like you’ve adjusted to it. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. I promise.”

“I know,” you replied. “I trust you.”

He gently pushed himself inside you inch-by-inch. The stretch of your walls around his manhood was almost painful. He was halfway inside you when you asked him to pause with two thin trails of tears running down your eyes.

“I just -” you gasped, “- I just need a minute.”

Ikaris softly stroked your cheek before catching a tear under your eye. “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

When you nodded to show you were ready, Ikaris continued to insert himself inside you until he fully bottomed out slowly. When he reached his hilt, he let out a mighty groan and husky rasp as you took a sharp and loud intake of breath. Despite how well-lubricated you were, the stretching of your cervix to accommodate his size was more than you expected. Thankfully, your lover did not move for the sake of you being able to adjust to the feel of him inside your tight walls.

Ikaris propped himself on one of his elbows as he hovered above you. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his moans, but the feeling of him being swallowed by your warmth was more euphoric than he could ever dream it to be. He lowered his head enough to kiss away the tears from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered so sweetly. “This discomfort will pass, my love. I will not move until you are ready.”

Thank the stars he prepped you earlier. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have been able to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It was the strangest sensation. You felt so full – as evidenced by the slight bulge protruding from your lower stomach – but the fullness was almost comforting.

It was evidence that you and your love joined bodies and became one.

You slowly wrapped your legs around Ikaris’ waist. Despite the discomfort, you wanted to feel as close and connected to the beautiful man hovering above you as possible. Soon, the pain lessened to a sting, and it dulled further before shifting to pleasure. It was not long before you craved the friction from Ikaris’ shaft moving inside you and slowly began grinding your hips against him to ease the ache inside you.

Ikaris could feel the fluttering of your cervix and your walls becoming more slick from your increasing arousal. Feeling your hips moving against him, he couldn’t stop the teasing leer at your squirming and the soft moans and whimpers leaving your lips.

“Does it feel good? I wonder how it would feel if I did this–” he pushed his hips to give a shallow thrust and reveled at the way your back was so beautifully arched.

Your cries were no longer laced with pain but adorned with shock from the unexpected pleasure.

“Oh? You like that?” he chuckled in smug amusement. “Fuck, your body is so responsive. You have no idea how much your sweet cries add to my ego.”

“I-Ikaris!” you stammered as you frantically moved your hips. “Please!”

“Please what, my flower?” he teased. “You know I can’t do anything until you provide explicit instructions.”

You wailed in frustration. “You know what I mean, you cruel man! I-I need you to m-move! I want to feel everything! PLEASE!”

Throwing all inhibitions to the wind, Ikaris gave you precisely what you wanted by giving hard, powerful drives. The squelch of your folds from each thrust was downright sinful and caused you to cry out his name. The slapping of his hips against your thighs, coupled with his gruff grunts and your high-pitched mewls, made for the most erotic symphony.

You felt so embarrassed by your reactions, but there was no use in holding back your reactions. You put your arm over your eyes to maintain some semblance of dignity, but Ikaris pinned it down to the side of your head. You opened your eyes to see if your lover was as out of control as you.

You were shocked to see how nearly black his eyes were, with almost no evidence of his lapis-lazuli irises. His lips had a thin, wet sheen of film covering them, and his hair was wholly tousled and unkempt from his usual militant style – a result of you running your fingers through it and yanking it.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cover your face,” he rasped. “I’ve waited for this moment for seven thousand years. All those years of watching those men stare at you with lustful eyes – every soldier, king, even fucking Thor. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it – what right did I have to do so? But tonight- tonight, I ensure that you will never want anyone else but me.”

You shook your head. “No…only you- I only want you, Ikaris. I swear!”

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “You feel so perfect – gripping me so tight. Do you feel as good as I do, my flower? Can you feel how I was made for you? As you were made for me? Can you feel how greedy your cunt is for me – I fit so perfectly inside you.”

The euphoria between you two reached such a crescendo that your bodies were frantically rocking against each other at an erratic tempo. You reached forward to cling onto his shoulders as you brought him in a close embrace. The only thing that mattered to you was the man above you and the love overflowing between you. The only thing that mattered to Ikaris was the feeling of you under him and knowing this wasn’t a dream.

The rest of the world disappeared, and the noise from the festivities of the City of Lights became white noise. The only sounds you could register in your lust-hazy mind were Ikaris’ hoarse groans and hushed gasps. The only sounds Ikaris could hear while in his bliss-intoxicated state were your breathless whimpers and sharp cries.

The two of you looked less like the gods humanity regaled in myths and legends and more akin to wild beasts. The sight of your legs tightly wrapped around Ikaris’ waist and the vulgar rings of the slapping of skin from him pounding into you was sinful. The feel of your full and soft breasts rubbing against his hard pecs only heightened the pleasure.

The familiar coil in your stomach returned, and its intensity was reaching a point of almost unbearable pleasure. All you could do was continue to cling to your lover with your nails dragging down his back as he continued to slam into you. Ikaris cursed under his breath at the feeling of your nails scraping long red marks on the skin of his back. He felt your walls start to tighten to show that you were reaching your peak. He increased his tempo to a relentless pace as he felt your walls continue to grip him.

With his newfound vigor, you became all the more aware of how he dragged each and every inch of his cock in and out of you. Your cunt wept at the way his new pace made you stretch even wider to accommodate for all of him. His rough patch of curls around the base of his cock hitting your swollen clit made your mind go blank.

“Ikaris!” you wailed. “Slow – slow down! I think – I think I’m going to – oh, FUCK!”

“Let go, Sephia,” Ikaris grunted. “I want to feel your cunt gripping my cock. I want to feel your walls creaming around me as your womb begs for my cum to fill so much that it leaks.”

Refusing to part from you, he snaked his arm to the space between your legs to press your swollen clit. The pressure from his fingers pinching your nub broke the dam inside you as your juices sprayed and soaked Ikaris’ manhood and naval region. Your back arched, and your legs trembled while the rest of your body pathetically spasmed from the intensity of your release. Your vision went white, and your mind was filled with blissful static as drool dribbled out of your mouth, hanging open at the sheer shock from the release of pressure.

When you came around him, Ikaris gripped the sheets so hard that he heard a faint rip as he felt a mass of textiles clump in his hand. If the fluttering of your cunt was heavenly, then the feeling of your walls clenching so hard around him as you sprayed your essence around him was euphoria. Using both hands, he unhooked your legs around his waist and spread them wide apart until your feet dangled by his head. The new position allowed him to reach so deep in you that he felt the tip of his shaft hitting the entrance of your womb.

He chased the end of his release as you senselessly babbled – your mind was too far gone from your climax, and all you could do was take all of him until he was done himself. It was not long until he felt his body tense, and he thrust himself into you to the hilt and came with a thunderous shout that echoed with your loud cries. The shift of all his weight ramming into the warm and wet hole that greedily latched onto him brought you a new sensation so pleasurable that it rocked on the edge of pain. The spilling of his hot seed inside your womb made you further cling onto him as tears streamed down your cheeks – as if melding your bodies into one being.

Ikaris completely let go of all of his tensions as he lay on top of you – panting for air. Your heart was racing as you tried to catch your breath. For a few minutes, the two of you only wanted to bask in the feel of you together in the aftermath of your lovemaking.

Not wanting to crush you with his weight, Ikaris gently tried to pry himself off you. He thought it would be best to grab a wet rag to help clean you or at least give you some water, but you refused to let go.

“I like feeling you inside me,” you whispered, your voice was a bit hoarse from your screams and cries.

His voice sounded more gruff than usual as he chuckled. “You shouldn’t say such things unless you’re prepared for another round. And by the looks of it, I think you’ve had enough for one night – especially for your first time.”

Ikaris stroked your cheek as he smiled at the sight of you. Your hair was tousled, and your skin was flushed to a lovely hue. There was not a patch of your neck that was not completely littered with red splotches from his bites and kisses. Your eyes were wet from the tears that streamed down your cheeks, and there was a small trail of drool from your mouth.

You were the very image of erotic perfection – only to ever be seen by him.

“…Was it good?” he hesitantly asked. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…at peace,” you replied after a few moments of thinking. “I don’t really feel any different from before. I certainly wouldn’t object to doing it again. But I just feel…content- and happy. Does that make sense?”

You felt your love’s feather-soft lips press against your hairline. “Yes, it does. But are you sure you don’t want to clean yourself? I know your thighs will feel…sticky in the morning if we don’t wipe it off.”

You shook your head. “No, I just want you here with me.”

“At least let me get you a glass of water,” he reasoned. “Believe me when I say you’ll be grateful for it in the morning.”

“Fine,” you relented with a pout. “Hurry back.”

He lowly chuckled as he lowered himself to plant a soft kiss on your temple.

When Ikaris returned with your water, he found you bundled under a cocoon of the bed’s sheets and covers. Shaking his head in amusement, he placed the glass on the nightstand on your side of the mattress. He carefully lifted the covers, not to wake you from your well-deserved slumber, and crawled under them before gently shifting your body in his arms.

As Ikaris closed his eyes and felt the beckoning lull of slumber reach him, he swore he could hear the tune of a trumpet blowing as a rich timber voice sang a familiar song that held a special place in his heart.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

With a peaceful smile on his face, Ikaris dreamt of a dear memory. It happened in Paris only over seventy years ago. He recalls the day he first heard the phrase ‘rose-colored glasses’ as if it were only yesterday. Unbeknownst to him, you were playing the same memory in your sleep.

Paris in February 1948 was a less-than-ideal time. The weather was dismal, and the air was filled with smog and cigarette smoke. The snow surrounding him more resembled ash blown from a forest fire than frozen ice particles falling from the heavens. People were still hurting from the losses they suffered in the war. The industry was ruined, food was severely rationed, and housing was in short supply. The once luminescent City of Lights and her people were living in misery.

But Ikaris’ longing to see you was greater than his misery.

You had been visiting the graves of soldiers and victims across France every February since the signing of the Paris Peace Treaties in 1947. While there were thousands of unmarked graves, you knew the names of each fallen soldier and nameless body. The Earth whispered each person's tale as their blood spilled to the ground. You would breathe their name to a single red poppy before laying the bloom on the ground. It was too little while also being too late, but you wanted to show your thanks.

Your heart ached at the thought of anyone crossing over without someone remembering them. You walked these hallowed grounds because these brave men and women had fought for that privilege. You walked to honor and thank them.

It was what Kaety and Phastos would have wanted. It was what James would have wanted.

Feeling a sudden shift in the air, you did not need to look to know who had joined you.

“Hello, Ikaris,” you greeted your friend while still kneeling on the ground. “What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied. “Is that not what friends do?”

You bitterly laughed under your breath. You finally stood from the ground to face your old “friend.” It hurt to see how beautiful he remained despite how he impassively stared at you – as if you meant nothing to him.

“Are we still friends?” you asked. “After everything?”

If your questions hurt him, Ikaris had not let it be shown. But he at least had the decency to soften his tone and look down at his feet, slightly admonished.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he answered. He looked up to face you once more. “Sephia, I…I missed you.”

A new wave of tears threatened to spill as you scoffed at his words.

“Cruel man,” you inwardly wept. “Cruel, cruel man.”

“Forgive me for my reaction,” you scornfully replied. “But I find that a bit hard to believe, considering how we left things between us last time.”

The last time you had seen Ikaris was over fifty years ago when he visited you in the small open field outside Kaety and Druig’s commune. It was your usual meeting place for the past two centuries. It was close enough to the village that Kaety still felt your presence but far enough to ensure your meeting remained private.

The first time he came, you were so happy to see Ikaris. You were terrified at the idea of him forever hating you for joining Kaety and Druig in seclusion. He had criticized you for going against Arishmen’s orders. He told you it mattered little of what you and Kaety did – humanity was doomed to fail.

The last you heard from Kingo was that Ikaris had disappeared from Earth. No one had seen him since Ajak sent all of you away – not even Sersi or Sprite.

His reaching out to you over everyone else meant so much to you. Perhaps it was selfish, but it made you happy to know your talks and meetings with Ikaris were done without anyone’s knowledge. Not even Kaety knew of his presence. You two would talk about the world that was changing around them while reminiscing about the world that had passed.

With each talk, you felt your bond with your friend strengthen. With each meeting, your attachment to Ikaris became more profound as you often craved to see him just hours after he left. Your feelings grew to the point where you could no longer contain them. It felt like you had laid your entire heart on the line.

“Would you stay here?” you softly asked. “Would you stay here with me?”

And then he left, leaving you in the field by yourself.

“Did you hate the idea–” you hastily inhaled to stop your voice from breaking “– of staying here so much? Could you really have not found any joy in what I do here for those people?”

Ikaris reached out to hold you in his arms.

“No,” he whispered in your hair. “No, Flower, that’s not it. I swear… I swear that’s not it.”

He should not have come. If he were a better man, he would have let you hate him until you could forget him. But he knew you were alone, and his selfishness won out in the end.

“Then why?” you cried. His shirt muffled your words, but your voice broke his heart. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you come back? Every year, I waited in that field! Because I thought our friendship meant something to you! But you never came!”

“Sephia,” he explained, “I could have never been who you needed me to be for those villagers. I have nothing to offer them but my combat skills.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “Everything you told me that night – you were right. It doesn’t matter what any of us do. Humans will destroy everything themselves. Just look where we are now.”

You and he looked at the thousands of white crosses that stood from the ground. You still had nightmares about the bodies surrounding you as hundreds of soldiers entered your tents – only to pass away from their fatal injuries. So many graves without names were men and women you treated before you had to bury them.

Kaety still woke up every night screaming at the horrors and abuse of the victims of Unit 731. What remained of the records of Ishii Shiro and his use of anthrax and the plague as biological warfare would haunt her for the rest of her life. Her thrashing had almost gotten to the point where she ordered Druig to sedate her if she ever accidentally hurt herself or him.

Phastos was practically left in a continuous catatonic state after leaving the site of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But during the times he came back, he could only weep out apologies to the millions of victims for his interference with humanity’s technology from the beginning.

“Was everything we thought we were building for nothing?” you asked. “Was this planet and its people doomed from the start?”

Ikaris only stood silently. He wondered if he was more cruel not to tell you the truth of Arishem’s grand plan after Ajak told him so long ago. But he wanted to see your smile for however long he had left. You were so proud of your creations, and rightfully so. Not knowing what else to do, he figured to let his actions speak more than his words.

“Can I show you something?”

He took you in his arms when you nodded. He lifted the two of you to a dark alley in Paris next to the Seine. The lights surrounding them with the people walking along the river bank made the night cold winter night less cold and desolate than the hopelessness you felt in your heart.

It was a pretty sight, but the view couldn’t have been the only reason why Ikaris brought you here.

“Look around you.” He spread his arms to emphasize his point. “What do you see?”

“…Litter and pollution?”

“Besides that.”

You tried to look harder. “Ummmm…people?”

“Exactly, people who are alive. A florist who sells flowers in the spring to young lovers because she wants to share the fruits of your labor with the world. Families who tour the Gardens of Versailles because they want to bask in the splendor.”

You understood Ikaris’ point. You were the one who tried to explain it all to him for so long, but everything seemed so hopeless now.

“Sephia,” he spoke your name to break you from your thoughts. “What you brought into this world was not for nothing. It never was. You are why people can find beauty and joy in the simplest pleasures.”

You wanted to say something – anything. But words failed to come to you. They always had during the most important events. Suddenly, you heard the melody of one of France’s favorite songs creep into your ear. You felt your Ikaris softly grasp your hand as he gently led the two of you to the direction of the melody.

It was a mixed jazz band playing in the middle of a packed Place Vendôme. They were playing La Vie En Rose.

The symphony of clarinets and flutes made for a beautiful melody. The saxophone altos, French horn, and trombone gave the song a homophonic texture. But the real star of the ensemble was the trumpet. It added a sense of joy and lightheartedness that so deeply contrasted the past decade.

“A favorite demon of yours told me this song was all the rage in France a few ago,” he quipped. “Care to show me why?”

You rolled your eyes. “You really need to stop calling Kaety that. She’ll bite your head off for being unable to think of a new nickname after seven thousand years.”

Ikaris took a few steps forward before turning to you and held out his hand. You only stared at it before realizing the meaning of his gesture. You stared at his face with wide eyes and a gaped mouth to represent your shock.

“You,” you choked out, “want to dance? In the middle of the square?”

Ikaris only shrugged. “Why not?”

“But…but, there’s just – there’s so many people around!” you stammered.

“That’s never stopped you before in Reykjanesskagi.”

“That was during the Maiden’s Day festival!”

“You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings with how long you’ve kept my arm like this.”

You huffed out a breath in annoyance before you reluctantly reciprocated the gesture. Ikaris must have known that you wouldn’t refuse a dance, especially a dance to one of your favorite songs. You hated bringing attention to yourself, but you loved to dance. You didn’t know what it was – but you could always lose yourself in the notes as your body moved in tandem with the tune. Whenever there was a festival or celebration in any city where the Eternals were stationed, you and Kaety would disguise yourselves as peasants or low-born nobility to fade into the background. So often, you would lose yourself in joy that you would accidentally make flowers bloom around you, even in the harshest winters.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Ikaris pulled you close to his chest. One hand was placed on the small of your back while one of your hands clutched on his shoulder. But the other was firmly clasped in his other hand. Before you began, you saw a few other pairs sway to the band. It eased your nerves to know that you and he were the only pair dancing in the historical square.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Everyone around you seemed to be dancing in slow, expressive, rhythmic steps, resembling an American-style bolero. Given the time and place, it was only natural that Ikaris took the lead. You were prepared to offer instructions, but he surprised you again by showing how comfortable he was in the role and steps.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you remarked.

Ikaris looked slightly embarrassed as his cheeks reddened. “Sersi taught me. She basically threatened to castrate me if I refused to dance at a speakeasy we frequented in New York in the 20s.”

“Sersi?” you snorted out as he spun and dipped you. “Sersi threatened you? Our Sersi? Lying is a very unbecoming quality, Ikaris. I didn’t think you’d be one to develop it.”

“Oh, if only I could make up such a tale,” replied Ikaris as he grabbed your waist before lifting you without struggle. “Sersi’s can be downright terrifying if she wants to be. Ask Kingo – he’s the only other person who’s seen her like that.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of your throat. And as the band continued to play, you and Ikaris swayed, dipped, and spun for hours. Over three hours had passed by the time the band was finished for the night. When you stopped, all you could do was stare into your friend’s eyes in a rose-hued haze before a thunderous round of applause broke you out of your dreamlike state and into reality. A sizable crowd had surrounded the two of you – hoots, hollers, and whistles accompanied the applause. Your impromptu performance enchanted men, women, children, and even pets.

“Bisou!” called out from a random face in the crowd. It wasn’t long before the call became a chant.

“Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou! Bi-sou!”

Feeling suddenly emboldened, you cupped your Ikaris’ face and kissed his cheek softly. The following whistles and cheers would have made you wish to disappear – had it not been for the sweet peck Ikaris placed between the furrow of your brow.

All of a sudden- without even knowing it at the time- the world seemed brighter, and the air started to smell like roses.

Ikaris woke up to the feeling of gentle poking on his cheek. Hearing the swallows sing and feeling the warm sunlight on his skin, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace. He turned his body in your direction before opening his eyes. He was immediately blessed with your bright eyes and sweet smile. Raking his eyes down your body, it looked like you wore his dress shirt from last night.

He adored the way it draped over your curves – especially with how it showed off your legs.

“Are you ready for your Valentine’s Day present?” you asked with poorly contained excitement. Judging by how your smile went ear-to-ear, you practically bounced out of your skin.

Ikaris furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “Was last night not my present?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would sex be your present? I thought I made it pretty clear that I hadn’t expected the night to turn in that direction.”

“Well then,” he chucked in amusement over your flushed cheeks and pout, “what is my present?”

Your eyes shone in delight as you lightly kicked your feet against the mattress. “You’ll have to get out of bed for that! Come on!”

You dashed into the next room while Ikaris wrapped the sheets around him before locating his briefs and grabbing a pair of gray sweatpants in his luggage. Once putting them on, he stretched out his back and arms from behind the balcony window before opening it and letting in some air to freshen the room.

When he crossed to the piano room, he was mildly surprised when he saw you seated at the pianoforte. You pressed the keys to carefully listen if the instrument needed any additional tuning. Satisfied that the pitch wasn’t flat, you turned to Ikaris, who was leaning under the doorway.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied.

You positioned your fingers over the right keys while straightening your posture. Clearing your throat, you began to play at Adagio. Your body swayed to the melody as if you had become one with the instrument. Every key you lovingly caressed let out a note sounding so beautifully as if the music came alive just for you. You closed your eyes before you began singing.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose

Ikaris’ eyes widened. Were you playing…had you –

But his thoughts were interrupted as your rich singing broke through his stupor. Your sweet voice was soaked in honey and laced with the roses from the song.

Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça m'fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause

For a moment, Ikaris truly hated that his French wasn’t as proficient as yours. Had it been, he would have been able to appreciate your singing that rivaled the voice of angels properly. Was it possible for one to sound as rich and effortlessly fluid as sweet syrup?

C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens dans moi Mon cœur qui bat

Your fingers lightly danced along the keys to give your voice a brief intermission. And for a few moments, it felt like Ikaris’ soul had returned to his body. And although he expected you to stop, you began to sing the English translation.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Whereas the original French version required a slower and softer pace to grasp the ballad's meaning and beauty, the English version required a slightly quicker tempo. It brought a more joyful mood and tone compared to the lovely but melancholic French version.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

When you finished, Ikaris was once more completely and utterly entranced. You turned to face him with hopeful eyes. You long memorized this song since that night in Paris over seventy years ago. When you began to learn how to play the piano, you did it because you never wanted to forget the ballad’s meaning and how it touched your heart from that night on.

“You once asked me why this song was so popular,” you began to explain. “Édith Piaf wrote ‘La Vie en Rose’ in 1945 and released it as a single in 1947. The song’s popularity quickly reached global success as jazz artists began to sing its covers. Louis Armstrong played it on March 2, 1948 – at the same Jazz Festival you took me in Salle Pleyel.”

You stood up as you tenderly traced a single black key that released a soft C sharp when you pressed it.

“As you remember, all of Europe was in chaos and misery after the war. Everyone lost someone fighting. So many men and women who returned became shells of themselves. People were starving and homeless from the constant airstrikes. But Édith wrote this song to remind Paris to never lose sight of the happy times and good things in life. You shouldn’t forget the bad times, but you also shouldn’t forget to look at life without seeing the beauty of everything around you.”

You walked towards Ikaris before standing before him and wrapping your arms around him. You laid your cheek against his chest and smiled at his beating heart's steady and strong rhythm.

“That night- when we danced at the Place Verdôme- the song they played was stuck in my head for months. Whenever I felt sad or disheartened, I would put on the record I bought to listen to it. I know you have your doubts about humanity. You always had them, as had I. We were never the ones who loved humankind, especially after the atrocities they had committed. I hated what they did to the Earth, how much they polluted it, but – Oh, Ikaris. I made you cry again.”

Touching his cheek, Ikaris realized that he was indeed crying. That’s twice in less than twelve hours, a new record. Just what in Arishem’s name had you done to him?

He shook his head. “Never mind my tears. Continue.”

“Listening to that song, I finally realized why so many of our family kept faith in humankind. Kaety and Druig have their twins and remain in their village. Phastos and Ben have Jack. Sersi has loved and lost more than any of us, first with Jane, but now she’s with Dane. Kingo lives among them effortlessly and adores them. Even Makkari remains joyful because she keeps looking at life and seeing its beauty.”

You paused for a moment before standing only tip-toes to press a kiss on his nose.

“Ikaris, you don’t care much for humans. But that night, you reminded me why I did what I did in the war. You reminded me that there will always be people who will take comfort in the most simple pleasures- a rose’s bloom, the crisp bite of an apple, or even the sound of a child’s heartbeat. So, for just a few minutes, I wanted to give something to you the way you have for me.”

Words failed to convey the love Ikaris felt for you. All he could do was tightly hold you in his arms and never let go. For the first time since he came back, he felt it was alright to love you. That he wouldn’t pollute or ruin you the way he had done with everything else in his life so many times. Ikaris knew that it was his destiny to love you. But you- you chose him. You chose to love him. And that fact alone was enough to make him die without regrets.

“I hope children have your voice,” he murmured into your hair before facing you with wet eyes. “And I hope that they have your heart.”

He cupped your cheek, and you kissed his palm softly. “Only if they have your eyes and your art skills.”

Ikaris must have heard you sing your rendition of ‘La Vie en Rose’ a million times. You sang and taught it all your children— Laurie, Aggie, and Ari – on the piano or tucking to bed. But that first time he heard you sing it- that morning when the sun pooled into the room as pink roses and red asters suddenly bloomed- that will always be his favorite.

Thank you if you if finished the story! Let me know if you enjoyed it, and make sure to like, comment, and reblog!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @lexyysworld, @hypnoticmistake, @jolixtreesunn, @tess-love, @she-wintersoldat, @vikingqueen28, @lilacliquors, @beananacake, @tesha-i-guess, @littledoveofchaos, @atjsgf, @littlewitchoftheweast, @fireinmoonshot

Let me know if the comments if you want to be included in future Eternals posts!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Oh, can you do a smut White Day request for RoR Hades? Basically, reader have a crush on Hades and gives him a chocolate in valentine day. Hades probably received a lot of chocolate that he didn't know how reader truly feels for him until White Day come. He gives others a box of chocolate in return, but for reader he decided to do something special, since he loves her too.

Minors DNI

-You were nervous, but also excited, knowing what today was- White Day! It was the day that hopefully, the man you loved would return your feelings!

-You had gifted him homemade chocolates on Valentine’s Day, putting in the hard work and effort to show him how serious you were about him and today was the day!

-Only for you to see other women around, holding little gift bags from Hades, gushing on their gifts- you didn’t realize that he had gotten so many gifts!

-You were foolish to think that or at least that’s what your brain was telling you- Hades was perfect in every way- how could he not have so many admirers?!

-As you resigned yourself to be just another one of the crowd vying for his attention, you decided to turn around and head home, no longer wanting to be out- mainly because you didn’t want anyone to see you cry from your broken heart.

-You were not expecting Hades himself to be at your home, waiting by the front door for you, you almost turned and ran again- believing this was a trick!

-When he called out to you, you froze, eyes going wide as he quickly came to you, a soft smile on his face which quickly melted into a concerned look, seeing the unshed tears, “What happened?”

-You were being punked- you were sure of it, there was a hidden camera around and people were going to jump out and laugh at you- you just knew it!

-When you didn’t answer, Hades cupped your cheek softly before speaking, “Of the gifts I received, yours was the only one I could tase any love in.” your face was quick to flush bright red, which made him smile softly.

-His eyes seemed to be swirling with emotions as he spoke, “I do have a gift for you- if you chose to accept it, but we need to go inside.” You were curious, wondering what the gift was.

-Twenty minutes later your back was arched as you sat on Hades’ face as his hands gripped at your thighs, holding you there as you writhed, crying out his name as he seemed like he was going to devour you.

-He slurped upwards, and you cried out loudly, “Hades!!” he chuckled, and you managed to look down at him, your chest heaving, seeing your thighs littered with bite marks and hickies as you whimpered softly, overstimulated by his actions.

-He pressed a kiss to your thigh before his hands grabbed your waist, hauling you up before quickly pinning you to the bed, your hair around you like a halo, “You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now~ and you’re all mine~”

-Your back arched as he slowly sank into you, filling you to the brim with his massive size as you let out a breathy gasp, feeling him so deep within you- this was a hell of a White Day gift but you weren’t complaining!!

-He was still for a moment, feeling your warmth before he grabbed your thighs again, giving himself leverage before he started rocking into you, leaving you breathless with each thrust.

-Watching you beneath him was even better than all the times he imagined- you were so beautiful, so warm- and all his.

-His hips snapped hard into yours at that thought, that you were all his now and his pace became hard and frantic, like his goal was to drive all the air from your body as he descended upon you, sucking another dark mark onto your neck as your hands stretched down his back, holding onto him, nails biting into his skin, giving him just a bit of pain with his pleasure, just how he liked it as he groaned out your name.

-You’re not sure how many times he made love to you, but you knew that he spent the night, as he took care of you, since you couldn’t walk, something he did preen over a bit- he held you close, as if you would disappear if he would let you go.

-A soft kiss was pressed into your hair, “I don’t want to ever let you go, Y/N.” your face flushed red again, which made him smile as you hugged him back, a soft sigh of content leaving your lips. He smiled, knowing he never would- he loved you too much to.

[aventurineswife]

Wanted to start this off by saying girl I love your writing so much like it’s so good!!!!

I have an idea that I think you’ll like, so since it’s Valentine’s Day soon I was wondering if you could write something where in past visits to different planets, Sunday meets reader and they start dating, but he can’t stay on the planet so he has to leave with the astral express, but the good news is that Sunday got readers number so they talk with each other on the phone, sooo it’s Valentine’s Day and both reader and Sunday are both sad they can’t spend it together so for the whole day they send it on call with each other :)

Sorry for the bad grammar English isn’t my first language I’m sorry if it’s a stupid idea😭

“Your Voice is My Favorite Constellation”

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Sunday spends the evening on a phone call with you, who lives on a distant planet he can no longer stay on. Despite his growing feelings for you, the distance between you both is a constant ache. As you talk about everything and nothing, both of you struggle with the sadness of being apart, finding solace in your shared moments. The night becomes an intimate exchange of words, offering comfort in your connection despite the galaxies separating you.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Slow Burn, Long-Distance Relationship, Valentine's Day, Fluff, Soft Angst, Phone Conversations, Healing and Comfort, Heartfelt Moments.

Warnings: Mild angst, Distance-related sadness, Emotional vulnerability, Slight introspection on loneliness.

A/N: AHHHHH TYYY SO MUCH!! I'M SO GLADD TO HEAR THAT YOU LIKE MY WRITING! 🥹💖 Also, don't worry about your English, it was honestly perfect and better than mine tbh 🤭🙏. @sundaysconsort, inspired by our chats hehe 🫣🤭💙✨

The Astral Express was quiet tonight, save for the soft hum of the stars beyond the windows. Sunday sat near the observation deck, eyes fixed on the vast expanse of space. His hair shimmered under the dim glow of the cabin lights, and his wings behind his ears fluttered slightly—subtle evidence of his restlessness.

He exhaled, glancing down at his phone. The time difference between the Express and your planet was a minor inconvenience, but it didn’t matter. He knew you were waiting.

A small smile ghosted his lips as he pressed the call button.

It barely rang once before your voice came through.

"Sunday!"

A warmth bloomed in his chest at the sound of your voice, bright and familiar despite the miles—no, the galaxies—between you.

"Good evening," he murmured, his voice carrying its usual airy cadence. "Or morning, depending on where you are."

"It's evening," you replied, a soft chuckle lacing your words. "And a lonely one at that."

Sunday leaned back against the seat, his halo tilting ever so slightly behind his head. "Ah," he mused. "So, we are both victims of distance tonight."

You sighed. "Yeah… I really wish you were here."

Sunday closed his eyes, letting the weight of your words settle over him. He wished the same, more than he cared to admit. His life had always been one of movement—never still, never lingering. And yet, every time the Express left your planet, he found himself looking back.

"I would have taken you somewhere quiet," he murmured. "Somewhere the city lights don’t reach. You like the stars, don’t you?"

"I do," you said softly. "Though, they’re not as pretty without you here."

His breath hitched. A quiet laugh escaped him, tinged with something bittersweet. "You say things that could ruin me, you know."

"Good," you teased. "Maybe then you'd find a way to stay."

Silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken longing. Sunday’s fingers toyed with the golden ornaments on his coat, his mind tangled in what-ifs.

"I despise this day," he admitted after a moment. "Valentine’s. It highlights absence in ways other days do not."

"Mm. But at least we have this, right?"

Sunday hummed in agreement. "That we do."

And so, the two of you spent the evening—no, the entire night—on the phone. You talked about everything and nothing, about the places he'd seen, the people he'd met, the silly little things that made up your day.

"Did you eat today?" you asked at one point, your voice laced with playful suspicion.

Sunday smirked. "Are you concerned for my well-being, dear one?"

"Always."

Something inside him softened. "Then I shall be sure to take better care of myself. For your sake."

Hours passed like minutes. At some point, you yawned, and Sunday knew you were fighting to stay awake.

"You should sleep," he whispered.

"Not yet," you mumbled. "Just… stay a little longer."

He closed his eyes, letting your breathing lull him into something dangerously close to peace.

"As long as you need," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere."

For now, the stars could wait.

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Sleepwalkers

Pairing: Vincent Valentine x GN!Reader

Synopsis:

Haunted by decades of guilt, regret, and the weight of choices not his own, Vincent Valentine has spent most of his life as a passive observer, a man shaped by duty and sorrow. One quiet night at camp, amidst the shared grief of his companions and the looming threat of the world’s end, he finds an unexpected moment of connection that challenges his long-held detachment. Or, healing comes in baby steps.

Word Count: 1,396

Warnings: A little angst. Mention of canon character death. Brief mention of blood, body horror.

Read on AO3

Half a century of life, and Vincent Valentine spent most of it asleep. Not just the three decades of self-imposed solitude, sealed away in that coffin, drowning in guilt and regret, but even the years before. He’d been sleepwalking through his life—a shambling corpse, puppeted by duty. He became a Turk to prove something, to make something of himself beyond his father’s long and looming shadow. A man in his own right. That was the idea. But even then, every step seemed more choreographed than chosen.

The post in Nibelheim? That wasn’t for him—it was for Veld, for the team, for the company. Each assignment, each decision, framed by someone else’s need, someone else’s hand tugging the strings. And Vincent, with his quiet acquiescence, had always gone along. Always. Weak and witless as he was, he’d never once dug in his heels, never entertained the wild, reckless idea of wanting something purely for himself.

There was always someone else’s need that was greater, another’s desire that surpassed his own. His father. The Turks. Veld. Lucrecia—

Lucrecia. He had wanted her. But now, with thirty years of distance, he isn’t sure if it had been love or just the impulse to alleviate her suffering, to protect her. He supposes it doesn’t matter anymore. She had made her choice, and he’d bowed out. As always, he’d stepped aside, made room for her to choose someone else.

For all the good it had done him.

Even a death on his own terms had been denied him.

Hojo had put a bullet in his heart, and before his blood could even cool, Lucrecia had plunged her hands into his broken chest and pulled it back out. Between the two of them, they’d torn him apart like dogs fighting over a bone—cutting and stitching, splicing and fusing, until there was little left of Vincent Valentine. The man replaced with something ancient, something dark.

Now, as he sits at the edge of camp, the others settling in for the night, the weight of his inaction feels like it might crush him. He presses a hand to his chest, the sharp metal fingers of his gauntlet resting over the unnatural thrum where his heart should be. The night grows quiet, the buzz of nearby conversation dwindling to nothing as his companions seek out sleep one after the other.

Vincent doesn’t mind keeping watch. The long stretch of quiet solitude comes as a blessing after a day spent tolerating Yuffie’s endless complaints, Tifa’s brittle smiles, or Cloud’s thousand yard stare. Aerith’s absence hangs over them like a cloud and daylight only reveals the fracture in their group, the fragile hold they each have on their grief. But suddenly, the prospect of holding silent vigil by himself until dawn seems a daunting task.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, only that when he hears a rustling beside him, the fire has dwindled down to embers. Overhead, an owl hoots, leaving its roost to hunt, and Vincent turns to find he’s no longer alone.

His eyes trace the line of your legs, the hem of your shirt, the shape of your waist, and finally up to your face. Backlit by moonlight, your hair glows in silver, a soft halo framing your features. You offer him a sleepy smile, stretching as if shaking off the remnants of a dream.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Vincent asks, his voice low and even, though his crimson gaze lingers on your face.

You shake your head, settling beside him, close enough that he can feel your warmth. “Too quiet,” you admit with a small laugh, looking out at the darkened woods beyond the camp. “Figured I’d keep you company for a while.”

He watches you closely, noting the strain that hovers behind the sweetness of your smile, the tension in your shoulders that belies a deeper issue. But Vincent doesn’t press and realizing he’s been staring long enough, he scoots to the side in wordless invitation. It’s a small gesture, enough room for you to settle in, but subtle enough to ignore should you so choose.

It’s all the same to him. Still, he feels a small flicker of relief when you sink down onto the grass beside him. Both of you face ahead, attention fixed resolutely on the horizon. But he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. You worry at your lip, fingers twisting idly around the longest blades of grass. 

“It’s a nice night,” you whisper, abandoning your fidgeting to lean back on your hands. Your head tips back so you can look up at the stars. 

Vincent hums, shifting his cloak higher over his chin.

“Do you…do you think the stars will still be here. Even when–even if, the rest of this all goes away.”

Goes away. Vincent’s lips pull into a tight line. You dance so delicately around saying what you really mean, but he hears what you don’t say. 

If we fail. If Sephiroth gets control of the black materia and brings the world as we know it to an end. If we let everything die. 

The stars. You tilt your head back to gaze at them, their light faint but enduring, scattered across the velvet expanse of the night. The quiet vulnerability in your voice lingers between you like a fragile thread.

Vincent doesn’t answer immediately, nearly decides not to answer at all. His gaze drifts upward, following yours, but he doesn’t see the stars—not truly. What he sees is a void, endless and cold, mirroring the emptiness he’s felt for decades. The world you’re fighting to save feels distant to him, a place he no longer belongs. Another dream his battered body is too weary to chase. But your question tugs at something deep, something he hasn’t let himself consider in far too long.

Will the stars still be here, even if everything else is lost? Like him are they cursed to linger on, watching even as all sense of time or meaning slips away? Suddenly he pities them, the bright points of light sparkling overhead.

“They’ll remain,” he says finally, his voice low, the words carried more by certainty than warmth. “Stars don’t depend on us. They existed long before we did, and they’ll shine long after we’re gone.”

You nod, though your expression is distant, thoughtful. “I guess that’s comforting,” you murmur. “In a way.”

Vincent glances at you, his crimson eyes catching the faint silver glow of the moonlight. “In a way,” he echoes. The silence stretches between you again, the kind that feels both heavy and unspoken, yet somehow companionable.

As the quiet settles around you, the warmth of your presence radiate beside him. Neither of you speak another word.  Your breathing slows, finally the tension in your frame softening as the weight of exhaustion finally takes hold. Vincent notices your movements grow still, your head dipping slightly before it comes to rest on his shoulder.

He freezes, his body instinctively rigid at the unexpected contact. It’s been years since anyone has sought such closeness from him—or since he’s allowed it. His gauntlet brushes against the fabric of his cloak as he considers pulling away. But then, he stops. Slowly, the tension drains from his frame as he realizes you’re not asking for anything from him, not even words. Just rest. Just this, a quiet moment of respite before facing down the inevitable.

Carefully, he adjusts his posture to support your weight. His chin lowers until it rests lightly against your head, strands of your hair brushing his cheek. The gesture is subtle, almost imperceptible, but it feels monumental to him. For so long, his actions have been dictated by others—by duty, by guilt, by expectation. But this? This is a choice.

For the first time in what feels like lifetimes, Vincent Valentine chooses to stay in the moment, to step into it wide awake. Not because he owes it to someone, not because it’s expected of him, but because he wants to.

The stars continue their silent vigil overhead, indifferent to the small, quiet scene beneath them. Yet, for the first time in a long time, Vincent doesn’t feel their distance as a curse. With you resting peacefully against him, the void within him feels just a little less endless. It’s fragile, fleeting, but for now, it’s enough.

[ohnococo]

Be My Valentine | Gojo x F!Reader

Gojo decides to tell you he likes you, with a handful of gifts on Valentine’s Day no less, but a few doubts creep in…

WC: 865 // SFW // under the cut for length

Gojo is hopeless. So hopeless he didn’t even know he was hopeless at first. He thought it was easy: he likes you, so he’ll tell you that. Valentine’s Day is the perfect excuse too, he’ll buy you gifts, be a little romantic, and you’ll swoon because of course you will, girls like this kind of corny stuff, right?

Except, when he gives Shoko a sneak peek at the giant white teddy bear and gaudy necklace with a cluster of sapphires shaped into a heart surrounded by a halo of sparkly gems, she gives him that look. Which he ignores, smiling as he shows the necklace off.

“Cute, isn’t it?”

“Do you not see the look I’m giving you?”

Gojo pouts, “That’s just what your face looks like… what’s wrong with it? Everyone likes teddy bears…”

She knows he likes them, she’s seen the little bears won at many a claw machine kept on his bedside table like he wasn’t one of the most powerful people to ever walk this earth. That’s beside the point now though, “Gojo, not the bear, that thing.

She gestures at the necklace in the box, and Gojo just looks confused. “You don’t think she’ll like it?”

“Have you ever seen her wear anything even remotely like that?”

He thinks, and Shoko rolls her eyes as she realises this is probably the first time he’d even considered that part of the whole thing. He shrugs, still not seeing the issue with his choice, “It was the most expensive thing there.”

Shoko sits back on her heels, closing her eyes and sighing, “Gojo just tell her you like her.”

She turns to leave, and suddenly Gojo is full of doubts he did not have before.

Doubts so bad that now he’s actually stressed. Walking into a few shops and asking for the biggest, most expensive thing there was easy - especially with salespeople willing to prey on those with big wallets this time of year. The consideration that you might not like it, made things much more complicated.

Coming up to you empty-handed feels wrong, but Shoko was only a pit stop on his way to where you were sitting in your classroom, waiting for Ijichi to bring your students back to campus. Besides, he’s already set on having this talk now, so he pockets the necklace, and decides that Shoko didn’t technically say anything about the bear being a bad idea.

As he enters your classroom, you’re happy to see him, then you’re just confused as you take in the 5 foot teddy bear hooked under his arm.

“Hi… Satoru…” then your smile is tinged with a knowing glint in your eye as you realise, but give Gojo the opportunity to say it outright, “who’s that for?”

He plops it on your desk, total disregard for the papers he sends sliding off and onto the floor, singsong voice accompanying his hands waving at the bear in a small presentation, “It’s for you.”

“Oh!” You stand to meet the bear eye to eye, taking in its appearance. Soft white fur, light blue plastic eyes, large paws holding a silk pink heart with a ruffle around it and the words ‘Be My Valentine’. You smile wide, looking over to Gojo, “It’s you.”

You laugh, and he does too, then an awkward silence befalls the room as he realises he’d been so caught up in the gift-giving part of it all that he hadn’t even thought of what he was going to say to you.

“Well…” you break the silence first, grabbing the bear from the table and hugging it in your arms, “thank you.”

He nods, looking from the bear, then to you, and seems unsure of himself for the very first time since the two of you met. It makes you chuckle, like you have the upper hand, and you can’t help teasing him a little. “Jealous of a teddy bear, Satoru?”

The playfulness of your words lessens his worries and lightens his mood, and he stops being mired down in his newly found concerns at saying the right thing, returning to himself with a happy sigh - after making a mental note that Shoko was possibly not the person to go to about these things. He respected her too much to cast her opinion aside when needed. And he liked you too much to come in here acting cagey when he really just wants things to be how they always are with you, just with that little bit more.

This time, his pout is fake, exaggerated with his lower lip poked out, “Maybe…”

You feign pity, hugging the bear to you tighter, even giving it a kiss on the nose, “I dunno, this bear is the one asking to be my Valentine, not you.”

“In that case,” Gojo rounds your desk to stand next to you, leaning close and tugging his mask down with one finger to lock eyes with you as he finally asks, “Be my Valentine?”

It takes you a second to respond, wit momentarily lost at the rare occurrence of seeing those beautiful eyes so close, but then you’re smiling anew, and pressing a kiss to his nose instead. “Yes.”

[t-nd-rfoot]

SUNFLOWER aka The Secret Valentine

There's something special about the happiness that comes from flowers.

Pairing Bob Floyd x female!aviator!OC/reader (callsign: Honey, but he calls you Bee)

Theme fluff

Warnings Valentine's clichés (ish); love triangle (ish); mentions of drinking; Hangman does something OOC (but roll with it please); edited a million times but I'm sure there's still a typo or two

Word Count 5.9k

Note Oh my goodness. This was....a headspinner to write, to say the least. First of all, so many thanks to @avaleineandafryingpan for requesting this and being so patient and kind!!! This was supposed to be a quick Valentine's drabble and lol. Look at the word count. And I'm about a week late from Valentine's Day. Secondly, a quick thanks to bestie @hangmanbrainrot for giving me advice on writing OCs! I'm not sure if Honey ended up being an OC since I wrote it in reader's POV but hey, I'm learning 😅 anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this!

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

It started with a sunflower.

One lonely sunflower sitting on the railing of your porch, its bright and yellow petals made it hard to miss on your out of your house on your way to the hangar.

How did this get here? you wondered aloud as you picked it up.

You looked up and down the street, hoping to see its owner, but it was still too early for anyone to be up. A few officers here and there were on their way to work just like you, but there was no other sunflower in sight. None on their porches, none on the ends of their walkways, none in their hands.

Shrugging it off, you took it as a sign for a good day. You figured it might make you late if you looked for a vase to put it in, so you placed it on the passenger seat of your car along with your work things and headed off.

“Happy love day, ladies!”

Hangman’s voice boomed as you, Phoenix, and Halo walked in the tactical auditorium. The guys were all scattered around the room and talked in groups, seeing as Maverick was running late to brief all of you on today’s drills.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’s and ‘thank you’s echoed around as all of you greeted each other.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bee,” Bob greeted as he walked up to you. You smiled as his special callsign—he refused to call you by your real callsign, Honey—rolled off his tongue, always teasing him about the adorable blush he sported whenever he said it.

“Thank you, Bobby, and Happy Valentine’s Day to you!”

He looked at you, a small grin forming on his face, though he never said a word.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you laughed.

He shrugged. “Nothing. You just seem extra happy today,” he pointed out.

Smiling even wider at the memory of this morning, you replied, “Well, it’s a happy day today, I guess. I found a sunflower on my porch this morning.”

“You mean you actually found it? Or do you mean ‘you found one in a flower shop and bought it for yourself’ kind of ‘found it’?” he teased.

You shouldered him playfully as he apologized. “I found it-found it. I have no idea how it got there or who placed it there, but I’m not going to question it. I got a free flower this morning and that’s all that matters,” you laughed.

Bob was one of your closest friends in and out of the Navy, graduating from the same TOPGUN class and working in Lemoore together before he got reassigned to North Island for the uranium plant mission. No matter where the two of you ended up, though, you somehow always found your way to each other as it wasn’t long till you were called back to TOPGUN as well. Though you missed being in the plane with him, the two of you were just happy to be working together again. Things between you picked up right where they left off, though the two of you had gotten closer—always sitting together at The Hard Deck or in the ready room, having lunches with Phoenix, and even going on morning jogs together down the beach. He even ditched Mickey as a teammate at pool, always calling first dibs to join you instead.

You turned to your seat when you saw that it had been decorated, and you noticed that Phoenix’s and Halo’s were as well. They were laughing with the others over the appropriately hand-drawn cards that were placed on the seats, along with a few small cut-out hearts. Clouds and wings were drawn around Halo’s cursive card, and Phoenix’s was drawn with fiery lettering.

The most detailed one, however, was yours—it was a full scene with a garden with flowers and bees in the background, and honey dripping down the block letters.

“Oh my gosh,” you cried out, “this is adorable!”

“You’ll never guess who made them,” Bob whispered.

Your eyes scanned the room and pointed to all your suspects. “Fritz? Coyote? Fanboy?” and all were denied with the shake of his head. Just as you let out a sigh of defeat, Bob pointed to the blond aviator who was talking to Phoenix.

“Hangman?!”

Bob nodded as you continued staring at Hangman. “He was one of the first ones here,” he informed you, “Just barged in with the cards and markers told us to help set it up.”

Overhearing your conversation, Harvard chimed in, “it felt like a pre-school in the locker room, or some weird Santa’s Valentine’s workshop.”

“First of all,” Hangman walked up to you, “my niece actually deserves fifty percent of the credit for pretty much bossing me around to do something nice for the ‘pretty ladies who always give her chocolate,’” he quoted as he slung his arm around you, “and naturally, I get forty-five percent for listening to her. The guys can split the other five for helping.”

Just the image of Hangman sitting down and cutting out paper hearts with his eight-year old niece had you giggling. “Aww, who knew Bagman had such a soft spot?” you pinched his cheek.

Hangman flashed his million dollar smile at you, “Honey, you know I always have a soft spot for pretty ladies.” He threw a quick wink at you before walking back to Phoenix and Fritz.

Could he have left the sunflower? you thought. This definitely was not the first time Hangman’s flirted with you. Knowing him, you always thought it was just light banter, but now, you were second guessing.

“Actually, his original plan was to decorate your lockers, but you can probably see how that might look like a problem,” Bob told you once Hangman was out of earshot.

“Probably,” you hummed sarcastically.

He was about to say something else when Maverick burst through the auditorium doors and rushed to the front of the room. You and the rest of the squad rushed to your seats before Maverick allowed you all to sit.

“Morning, guys. Sorry, I’m late. Had some…motorcycle problems.”

Rooster cleared his throat. He gestured tiny circles at the side of his own neck. The older pilot looked confused until the young Bradshaw mouthed ‘Penny,’ and his eyes shot wide before he cleared his throat and tugged up the collars of his flight suit.

“Let’s get to work!”

The squad rushed out of the locker rooms as soon as they could so they could get ready for their dates. Yale had just finished talking about his plans with his date when the others started talking about their plans.

“How about you, Honey? Got a big date for tonight?” Coyote asked as all of you walked out the building.

“Mhm, I got McDreamy and McSteamy waiting for me at home right now,” you joked.

Halo laughed from beside you. “Now that’s a threesome I can get behind,” she joked.

“Ouch, a Grey’s Anatomy marathon on Valentine’s Day?” He whistled lowly.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, okay?” you defended yourself, “At least there’s a Valentine’s Day episode! And besides, I didn’t hear you say anything about a ‘hot date’.”

He held his hand, feigning offense. “You wound me, Honey. And I just so happen to have one waiting for me as we speak!” And he rushed off to his car.

“You know, the more you try to hide her from us, the more we think she’s not even real!” Payback called out. Coyote didn’t even look back at the squad as he flipped the bird and drove off.

“Coyote has a girlfriend?” you asked.

Rooster snickered, “an imaginary one.”

“He says he met someone months ago, but he’s not giving us anything else,” Fanboy added, “no name, no story, nothing. Just that every other week or so, he meets up with her.”

“Or so he says,” his best friend quipped. “The fact that even I don’t know about her is something, and he usually never shuts up about someone he’s interested in.”

The group decided then to go their separate ways to get their Valentine’s Day started, but Bob walked all the way with you to your car.

“So, you really have no date for tonight?” he asked.

You shook your head in reply as you loaded your things in the backseat of your car. “It’s not that I don’t like Valentine’s,” you suddenly found your self ranting, “it’s just that no one’s asked me this year, and I’m fine with that. I’m not gonna sit around and wallow—well, I’m going to sit around and have my Grey’s marathon, yeah—but I’m not going to wallow! And it’s not like it’s the end of the world that nobody’s asked me to be their Valentine…right?”

You looked up at Bob to find his big blue eyes staring back at you, clearly at a loss for words from your little spout.

“Oh my gosh, I sound so pathetic,” you muttered. “Please, please forget I said anything, I—”

Bob burst into laughter and hugged you tight to try and calm you down.

“This isn’t funny, Bobby!” you said, though you couldn’t hold back your own laughter.

Looking up at him once again, you found his blue eyes already on you, though there was more sincerity in his gaze this time. And something else, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. You and Bob have both looked at and hugged each other a million times before, but the way he looked at and hugged you now felt different. Suddenly, you were both aware of the position you were in and pulled back. He ran his finger through his hair nervously while you crossed your arms, unconsciously missing the warmth of his embrace.

You stole glances at him as you cleared your throat. “So, um…how about you? Do you have a date tonight?”

It took a few seconds for him to answer. “Yeah,” he mumbled, suddenly finding the stray gravel on the pavement more interesting than you.

A small ‘oh,’ escaping your lips, you put on a poker face. “Wow, um, since when?” you asked.

“Oh, um, it’s been…awhile, I guess.” he trailed off.

Relationships weren’t a strange topic for either of you, but looking back, you were more open about your love life than he was. Maybe he met someone before you arrived. Maybe he didn’t want to let anyone know, especially if he thought the others were going to tease him about it. Maybe he didn’t say anything because you never asked…until now. Knowing Bob, he never dated casually, so this must have been serious. But he never kept things from you. Not in his emails, not in his texts, and certainly not in person. But you weren’t insulted, just confused, if you could ever admit.

“Well, whoever she is, she’s a lucky girl,” you assured, “I’m really happy for you, Bobby!”

You climbed into your car before your emotions started to show, but just before you stepped on the gas, Bob knocked on your window and you let it roll down.

“You’re not pathetic, Bee. In fact, you’re far from it, not even close to it. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Your lips turned up graciously at your best friend’s words of encouragement.

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“And if you ever start to feel that way again, just think about your sunflower,” he gestured to the plant in your passenger seat.

“It’s wilting,” you pointed out disappointedly.

“So?” he shrugged, “it’s still pretty. It’s still a sunflower.”

With a small grin, he pushed himself off your car to let you get home and waved goodbye.

You were about to pull up to your driveway a few minutes later when a delivery driver showed up and asked for your name.

“Yeah, that’s me?” you said before they handed you a bag. “Um, I don’t remember ordering anything…”

“Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of,” they informed you with a kind smile.

“By who, if I can ask?”

They shook their head, “Sorry, I was given specific instructions to not say anything. Though from what’s in the box, I’d say you have a secret admirer!”

After they left, you walked in your kitchen to open the bag. Inside was a stark white box with neon squiggles.

“Sugarlust,” you read aloud the sticker that sealed it. The bakery Coyote always goes to, you recognized.

A small card with a printed message was also stuck to the box ‘I’m no TV surgeon but I hope you find these just as good!’ No name.

Sure enough, it was a box of the salted caramel cookies you loved from the last time he bought a box for everyone. A quick flashback of Coyote’s proud smile popped in your head, of when you couldn’t stop raving about it and his promise to buy more next time.

You picked up the sunflower from the table and twirled it in your hand. The hours it lay in the heat showed in the paling yellow petals, and though you had no idea how to care for it, you placed it in a watered vase anyway.

Maybe it was Coyote, you thought. It certainly checked: he had your address, he knew you liked sunflowers, and he remembered the cookies you loved. But he said he’s on a date…unless he was pretending? The other guys definitely thought he was.

Refusing to confuse yourself any longer, you gave one last glance at the sunflower, took a bite from your cookie, and hoped that Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan could distract you…for now.

“I'm in love with Teddy. I love her.”

“You're like Lexie with the inappropriate feelings for inappropriate people.”

“What can I say? My heart lives in my scalpel.”

The Seattle Grace Mercy West surgeons were trying to play baseball when your phone chimed. Phoenix and Halo were currently messaging the squad group chat.

Bassett Hound 🐾💗 date was a bust. reservation got screwed and they refuse to go anywhere else told them i refuse to waste this outfit hard deck anybody?

Pixie Nix 🧚✨ aw hales 😞 sorry to hear that if it helps, my date spoke more words to the waiter than to me don’t have to ask me twice

Bassett Hound 🐾 hbu @Mamma Mia 🍯🍯 ? we’ll be your valentines ❤️

Glancing between the half-eaten box of cookies and the Grey’s Anatomy theme running on your screen for the fourth time in a row, you decided that maybe it isn’t too late to salvage the holiday.

You showed up feeling a bit more refreshed from earlier. You opted to dress up just the slightest bit more than usual since you figured Phoenix and Halo would be too, coming from their dates.

The bar wasn’t crowded—a lot of the regulars you recognized were probably out on dates—but it looked like a haven for lonely hearts, single people dotting the bar or nursing their drinks at their small tables. You spotted some introducing themselves to others, and one lucky couple just escaped through the side door. The pool table, however, was as lively as ever with some of its usual suspects. Halo and Phoenix had already started a game, but you were surprised to see a few of the others there as well—Rooster and his girlfriend, Omaha and his wife, and Bob—who all cheered as you approached the table.

“Come here often?” Phoenix fake flirted.

“Only when I’m summoned with magic,” you came back and hugged her. “What brings the rest of you here?”

“We didn’t feel like going home just yet, then I saw Halo’s text in the group chat and she wanted to say hi,” Omaha explained and gestured to his wife as you went around greeting the others. “Rooster’s car broke down about a half mile up the road.”

“Excuse you, the Bronco doesn’t break,” Rooster interrupted, “It just…swerved off the road a little. But it’s fine. Just needed to stretch our legs a little.” His girlfriend giggled silently as he pulled her close to his torso and started whispering in her ear.

You took your usual seat on the stool next to Bob’s. “So I’m guessing Coyote’s date was real? Since he’s not here, I mean.”

“Looks like it,” he agreed as he sipped on his water. Noticing your lack of banter, he studied the pensive look on your face. “Why’d you ask?”

Your train of thought broke as he spoke. “What? Oh, um, it’s nothing,” you said nervously, “Forget I asked.”

“If you’re thinking about it this hard, it’s probably not nothing,” he egged on. “What is it?”

You could never say no to Bob. He was your best friend and you trusted him. Even though you were a little hurt that he kept his girlfriend a secret from you, you just couldn’t bring yourself to make it even. “Okay, so you know how I found a sunflower this morning?” you said in a low voice.

He nodded silently, letting you continue without being interrupted.

“I didn’t want to think anything of it at first. I just figured that someone—I don’t know, ‘neighborly person’ in a Valentine’s-y mood, I guess—left flowers up and down the street. But no one else had one so I just brushed it off. But then there was Hangman this morning with the cards and the flirting, and I thought it felt different. But it’s Hangman. You can never really tell with him, right? So I brushed that off. Then when I got home, get this: I get a delivery of cookies from Sugarlust. Coyote’s bakery. And it wasn’t just any cookie, it was the salted caramel cookies that he brought to that one dinner, the ones that I loved. What really did it for me, though, was the card. Something about him not being McDreamy but he hopes I love the cookies just as much. He was the one who commented about my Grey’s Anatomy marathon. And now I’m thinking if he was the one who gave me the flower, and…I don’t know,” you sighed, “I guess I was just hoping to see him here tonight to ask if it was him.”

And like this morning, he was dumbstruck again at your rant. You grew conscious of yourself at his reaction so you changed the subject.

“But enough about me, though. How about you? Where’s your date?” you asked as normally as you could.

Halo stood up after her turn. “Bob had a date?”

All eyes landed on the spectacled wizzo in his usual corner. “Oh. Right. My date.”

“Since when? And how come I don’t know about her?!” Phoenix asked, echoing your conversation and thoughts from earlier.

“Uh, awhile,” he said again, though he sounded more nervous this time, “but it’s okay, um, I don’t think it’s gonna work out…”

Your heart dropped after seeing how dejected Bob looked. “I’m so sorry, Bobby.” You put an arm around him, and he returned your small smile with one of his own.

Phoenix pushed herself off the pool table and handed him her cue stick. “Welcome to the club, Bob.”

Customers came and went in the two hours you have been there, but the eight of you had stayed. Rooster took over the piano, crooning blues covers with Halo, while his girlfriend and Omaha’s wife were talking with Phoenix. You were back on your stool after winning the last round of pool against Omaha, who was now playing darts against Bob.

The lack of a crowd allowed for cool night air to linger inside, that you had borrowed Bob’s jacket to keep you warm.

“What the fuck, bro?!” Omaha groaned in disbelief after Bob hit his fifth bullseye of the night.

“Target locked, and direct hit,” Bob retorted while he picked off his darts from the board.

Omaha took his place as he got ready for another game. “Best of nine,” he challenged and threw his darts immediately.

“Roos baby, I love you, but you’re kinda killing the mood here,” his girlfriend laughed from across the room while he and Halo were in the middle of singing November Rain by Guns N’ Roses. And without missing a beat, he started playing Little Richard’s Tutti Frutti. The lively melody brought the empty bar to life and the four girls started to dance with each other.

Halo called out to you, “Honey! Join us!”

“In a minute, Hales! I’m on dart watch from Omaha,” you pointed your thumb to the brunette who had just lost another game to Bob. He was practicing his aim when Bob took his seat beside you.

“Let me know when you’re done warming up, Vikander,” he taunted, his competitive side coming out now that he was more relaxed.

“Gonna make you eat your words, Floyd,” Omaha came back.

You and Bob entered your little world again from your seats. You watched as he chugged his water, his glasses slipping from the bridge of his nose.

“How’re you holding up there, Bobby?” you asked.

He let out an exhausted laugh. “You’d think darts wasn’t exhausting, but I think Omaha might as well have me running a marathon if he’s making me play this much.

“We’re aviators,” you snorted, “everything’s a competition.”

“I woke up the beast,” he sighed.

Taking a sip of your own water, you repeated his sentiments back, “You woke up the beast.”

A few beats passed in comfortable silence when he turned to you. “How about you? You don’t wanna join the others?”

“You might be surprised at how much five straight games of pool can do to your legs and back.”

He chuckled, “Well, you better hope you don’t get any push-ups tomorrow.”

It wasn’t even midnight yet when the bar was nearly empty. The jukebox played in the background seeing as Rooster and Omaha joined in on the dancing on the other side of the bar, but you and Bob remained in your seats. Usually, the two of you would be conversing non-stop—talking about the latest podcast he was listening to or your vivid dream from the night before, people watching the tourists, betting on who fellow aviator was going to do what predictable act for the night, or singing along to the music.

But you could sense some slight tension between you two tonight, thinking it might have been from the whole Valentine’s date conversation from earlier. Bob never brought it up afterwards so you didn’t think anything of it too, but now that the two of you were alone, you could see the somber expression return to his face as he stared at the floorboards.

You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder closest to you. “It’s gonna be okay, Bobby,” you said.

He looked up to your encouraging smile, and his empty hand crossed his body, his fingers brushing yours in a silent ‘thank you’.

“Who was she? If I can ask,” you said, “but you don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to, I don’t wanna pressure you—”

“It’s alright, Bee,” he said softly. He took a deep breath as he turned his eyes back to the floor. “She’s just someone I liked for awhile now.”

“How’d you meet?”

“The usual, you know. Work,” he shrugged.

“So she’s a local?” you inquired.

“Nah, she moved here from upstate.”

After placing his now empty water cup on the ledge behind him, he sat up straighter in his seat. “Guess that makes two of us now.”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion when he let out a low laugh. “Valentines-less,” he referred to your little blather from this afternoon.

You let out your own laugh as you jogged up the memory. “We can be pathetic together,” you jested. “Well, not entirely true, I guess. Halo and Phoenix decided to be my Valentine’s to get me to come here, but I think they’ve got each other covered.”

Bob looked back to see what you were talking about, to find Halo and Phoenix drunkenly belting out Love is a Battlefield a cappella with Rooster’s girlfriend while the aviator just watched their performance. The two of caught a glimpse of Omaha and his wife waving at the two of you just before they exited.

“Besides, it doesn’t seem fair that I have two Valentine’s and you have none,” you continued.

“So what are you suggesting? You give me one of your Valentine’s?” he played along.

You looked up, pretending to think, “Hm, I don’t know if they’d appreciate being someone else’s Valentine without them knowing, so what do you say, Bobby? Will you be my Valentine?” you proposed playfully, even looking up at him through your lashes for added effect.

He smiled tightly. “I don’t think you’re gonna give me a choice, anyway,” he mumbled playfully and you elbowed him, “but sure, Bee. I’ll be your Valentine.” You spotted just the slightest bit of a blush creeping up his neck.

Finally regaining some strength in your legs, you were ready to go home. “Well, I hate to cut our date short, my Valentine, but I think I need to call it a night,” you said, “I hate that you reminded me about the push-ups.”

Bob got up with you. “No worries, Valentine. And trust me, I think the three of them might have it worse than you tomorrow,” he said about your co-workers still in the middle of their impromptu karaoke.

You dug out your phone, wallet, and keys that you kept in his jacket pocket when something else fell out. You picked up a small velvet box tied with a white satin ribbon. What caught your eye was the tag—instead of a name written on it, there was a doodle of a tiny, squiggly, buzzing bee.

Like how the bees looked on Hangman’s card.

You looked up already finding Bob staring at you nervously. His mouth had been drawn in a thin line and the tension that you felt earlier increased tenfold.

Though he never outright said the gift was for you, he watched as you tested him, slowly untying the ribbon. Even as you pried the cover off the box, he never stopped you.

“Bob…?” you whispered in disbelief as you stared at the gift. It was a golden bracelet—two delicately thin chains connected by a shining sunflower charm.

“Hey, you guys okay?” Phoenix called out from the piano.

Neither of you spoke as you continued to stare at him. Seeing as you didn’t respond, Bob replied for the two of you. “Yeah, we’re all good.”

“We’re gonna get going, if it’s okay,” she notified you. All of them had their things gathered, and the bartender on shift was already wiping down the counters.

The two of you waved your goodbyes at them as they headed out. Halo blew flying kisses in your direction as the door shut.

“Take care!”

“Happy Valentine’s!”

“See you tomorrow!”

And then there were two.

Still in shock, you held the box as securely as you could while your mind was still reeling. Bob? The sunflower this morning. The sunflower on the bracelet. The bee on the card. This has to be a coincidence, right? Maybe this was meant for his date? Maybe he’s holding on to it for someone? Maybe he’s—

“Can we talk about this?” You didn’t even realize you had asked it out loud until Bob turned back to you. His eyes grew big, the same way they always did when he started to panic during a drill or a mission.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He led you out to the parking lot where it was still a bit bright from the street lights. The cool breeze bit at your skin when you remembered you were still wearing Bob’s jacket. You had barely taken it off when Bob tugged it securely back on your shoulders.

“It’s freezing,” you insisted, but Bob just shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

It was hard to ignore the elephant in the room. Your thumb ran over the bracelet still in its box and the thoughts you had previously came flooding back.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you mumbled.

Bob wiped his face with his hands. “I don’t think there’s any other way of saying it except that it was me. I never had a date, and I was the one who left the sunflower at your door.”

Happiness. Relief. Frustration. Love. You could have been feeling all of those things right now, but no. You were just as confused as ever. “So when I was talking about all those other things, about Hangman and Coyote…”

“That was me too.”

The two of you took a seat on the bottom step of the bar’s front deck. “Hangman and the other guys were cutting out the paper hearts when he told me to bring out the cards from his bag. I didn’t have anything to do, so I just started drawing the garden on your card.”

You toyed with the hand-drawn bee on the card still hanging from the ribbon. “I guess I should’ve known from the card that it was you,” you said, mostly to yourself but loud enough for him to hear. “You’re the only one who calls me ‘Bee.’ Who was the guy from TOPGUN again? The one that you nearly decked—” you smiled trying to stir the memory.

“—But I didn’t—and it was that asshole, Shadow,” he groaned. “Ugh, I’m never gonna forget the way he called you that day.”

“But I still don’t get why you don’t call me ‘Honey.’ Everybody else does. I don’t mind it, you know.”

“I know, I know,” he nodded. “But if I’m one less person to remind you of that day, then I’ll call you ‘Bee’ until you truly forget about it.”

You couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your heart at his confession. You actually haven’t remembered that incident until now, but it was sweet that Bob always tried to make you feel better about it, even if you didn’t realize it.

“That’s real sweet of you, Bobby,” you said warmly. “But speaking of sweets…”

Bob winced jokingly, “Ah, thought I was in the clear.” He had a distant look in his eyes as he recalled, “I still remember the look on your face when you tried the cookies. The two of us alone wiped out half the box before dinner even started. You even begged Coyote to go back for another box after Fanboy ate the last one.” The grin on his face only grew bigger the more he looked back at the memory.

You barely even notice yours did too.

It all made sense now. Bob had been a constant presence in your life ever since the two of you met, even moreso now that you were together back where your friendship started. How you even thought of Hangman or Coyote before you suspected him was beyond you.

There was still one question you needed answered, and it had you on the edge of exasperation. Your voice was small as you spoke, “We were with each other the whole day, Bob. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Just as frustrated as you were, he let out a big breath. “I don’t know. I’m a coward, I guess. I was right there on the sidewalk outside your place, fully prepared to ask you out. Even had a whole speech prepared and everything,” he confessed. He spoke slower and softer, his eyes never leaving yours, “about how I saw the bracelet in a window the other day, and how it reminded me of the sunflowers you painted on my arm that one time I visited you in your hometown. And how I wanted you to have a sunflower on your own hand, then I’d ask you to be my Valentine.”

He looked down at the ground in shame as he continued, “But I got scared. I didn’t want to ruin the friendship, especially since you’ve only been here a month. So I figured after I left your house that it might be easier if you didn’t know it was me, and that’s why I lied about the date. Just in case you were, I don’t know, expecting something…more. Than just me, I mean.”

Taking the box in his own hands, he twiddled with it. “I thought I lost my chance this morning, but then Halo messaged asking you to come. So I came here thinking this could be my second chance until you started asking about Coyote…thought I was done for. You wanted him while I’d stay the idiot that lost you forever.”

Your heart no longer fluttered but burst at his words. A love you had for him that didn’t know was already there had finally surfaced as you shut him up with a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You’re so much more than what I could ever want, Bobby,” you whispered, scooting closer to him on the step.

A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and you swore you’ve never seen him smile so widely. Gently lifting the bracelet from its box, he undid the clasp. “May I?” he asked.

You rested your outstretched arm on his knee, allowing him to put it on you. Your nerves awakened at the soft touch of his fingers against your wrist, sending even more shockwaves throughout your body as he clasped his hand around yours afterwards. The bracelet was cool against your skin, but you felt nothing but warmth allover—from his jacket, from his touch, and from the loving feeling dancing inside you.

The moon shone high above you as midnight quickly approached, and you decided to make the most of the last minutes of the day.

“Hey, Bobby. I believe you have one last thing to ask me.”

“Is it the something you actually asked me first?” he teased, but quickly surrendered at the funny look you gave him. Hee gazed sincerely at you, “Bee?”

“Yes, Bobby?” you pretended.

He leaned in close to you till your noses were touching, and whispered slowly, “Will you be my Valentine?”

“I don’t think I have a choice anyway,” you mocked his earlier response as you both laughed, “but yes, Bobby. I’d love to be your Valentine.”

His lips found yours not a second later, fireworks exploding with every kiss that landed on your lips.

The moon stood brightly above, indicating the beginning of another day. Though your days from this point would never be the same, now that you had Bob and Bob had you.

All thanks to a flower given on a front step.

Tag List @roostersrooster @rosesvioletshardy @bonitanightmxres @avaleineandafryingpan @bradshawseresinbabe @hangmanbrainrot @babyonboardfloyd @demxters @footprintsinthesxnd

Add yourself to my tag list!

Disclaimer I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

[goosewriting]

Our New Empire

summary: reader and Cal dress up for a costume party and share a moment alone.

relationship: college!AU Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, maybe second-hand embarrassment lol, kissing

word count: 1.5k

A/N: inspiration struck just in time for valentine’s day! this one’s for @soka-writes-things <3 thank you for your support always and for your patience, this took a while :’) <3 this is technically a spin-off to class is now in session. i hope you’ll enjoy all the meta references xD

[all masterlists] 🪶 [star wars masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Every year, the university would host a handful of events, mainly for the freshmen to meet new people and explore the campus. Many of the older students still like to attend, though; the university does know how to throw a party, after all. You’ve been looking forward to it for months, and even pitched an idea to your faculty to make it a costume party. To your delight, everyone was immediately on board. 

Luckily, the organisation went without a hitch, and everyone even pitched in for food and decor. Since the event would become more of a party than anything else, the university would allow for it to still be held in one of the bigger halls, with the condition that there’d be an assigned group of people who’d stay and clean up afterwards. So the faculty held two raffles: one for prizes and one for the clean-up crew. The latter was announced before the event, and you and Cal both got drawn. But neither of you minded, as some of your friends got drawn too, so at least you know you’d have a good time with them. 

As for the party, you decided to dress up as Jedi Knights from that one movie, ‘Galactic Conflicts’. When you found out that Cal is also a fan, you were delighted, and you easily settled on matching costumes. Others also wore costumes from the franchise, and you’d go up to them with your plastic sword and challenge them to a duel, quoting some lines here and there, happy when they’d play along.

An hour or so into the party, you start to feel your shenanigans catching up to you. The air in the main hall, which has been converted into a dance floor, is pretty stuffy, and the bass thrums in your ears. The several layers of robes you’re wearing are starting to cling to your skin since you’ve been running around, taking your Jedi role very seriously. So you decide to step outside for a while, and look for Cal while you’re at it. You lost your companion a while ago in the colourful mass of people. 

You navigate through the crowd, careful not to hit anyone with your sword, and head for one of the exits that leads onto an elevated patio. The evening air is pretty cool, and you breathe in deeply, welcoming the sensation. With your hands on your hips, you stand by the railing, looking down at the cobblestone path that snakes around a small pond. You wonder if there’s any fish in there, and if so, if you could get the chance to feed them. 

“Hello there!” 

You recognise the voice, and turn around with a chuckle, shaking your head. Standing on one of the nearby benches is Cal, his arm extended, sword aimed at you. The lamp post shines a halo-like light over him, his copper hair glistening with specks of red and gold, contrasting his dark robes.

“General Kestis,” you respond, playing along.

”I have the high ground,” he continues, striking a silly heroic pose from where he looms over you.

”That’s not how the lines go!” you laugh, and he shrugs, giving you a lopsided smile. 

“I was looking for you,” he says.

”Yeah?” You lift your sword, shifting into a battle pose. “You want me to kick your butt again?”

”I’m afraid it won’t be so easy this time,” he says, flicking the switch on his sword to elicit a whirring sound effect, and the blue colour changes to red. “I’ve turned to the dark side. It’s Darth Kestis, now.”

You hum, not bothering to cover the fact that you’re checking him out. 

“I have to say, for a Sith Lord, you look really good,” you say, and Cal breaks character for a split second when he can’t hold back the smile spreading on his face. But he’s quick to return to his serious expression, jumping down from his bench and coaxing you to approach with his free hand.

”En garde!” you exclaim, holding your sword up, and he mirrors you so that your weapons form an X.

”That’s not-“ he breaks again with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Ah, never mind. Let’s go!”

You two play fight for a while, adding your own sound effects when your swords clash, throwing banter back and forth, switching to slow motion for particularly cool moves. It doesn’t take long for you to break out in laughter at the silly antics, unable to hold back any longer. This means you let your guard down, and in one swift move he swipes your sword from your hands, caging you against the railing. 

“Gotcha,” he says, panting softly; you two really took this seriously and are slightly out of breath.

”Oh no, whatever shall I do,” you say in mock distress, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead in an exaggerated manner. But the grin on your face betrays you. “So tell me, Darth Kestis. Did you perchance grow very powerful now that you’ve turned? Brought peace to the Republic?” 

“Indeed,” Cal responds, turning both swords off and clipping them to his belt. He places his hands on the railing on either side of you. 

“What about the younglings?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

”All safely evacuated, of course,” he retorts, looking like he might add something else, but he decides against it. Instead, he continues, “I’ve brought peace, justice, freedom and security to our new Empire. I’ll overthrow the Chancellor. We can rule the galaxy together. You know how it goes.” 

His tone is so matter-of-fact, you raise a brow at him with a chuckle.

”So, will you join me? To rule together?” he asks, his tone surprisingly earnest, and it kind of makes your heart flutter a bit. 

Cal pushes himself off the metal bar, standing in front of you with an extended hand. In your mind, you can perfectly imagine your surroundings on the lava planet, everything bathed in reds and oranges. You give him a knowing smile, sighing dramatically.

”You know I always say the Queen should have gone with Vader.” Taking a step closer, you place your hand in his, and he brings it up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. Without letting go, he lets his arm fall back down again. 

“So, what should our first official decree be?” he asks, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he comes even closer. You hum, as if musing it over, deep in thought. His face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks.

”Free healthcare for everyone,” you start, and he hums in agreement. “Retirement plans for the Clones. Guaranteed food and housing for all inhabitants.” 

“Anything else?” he asks in a whisper, his lips brushing over your ear, sending tingles all over your skin. 

“And once the government stabilises a bit, I’ll bring you back to the light.” 

Cal stops his ministrations, pulling back to look at you in surprise. 

“Emperor or not,” you continue, bringing your free hand to cup his face. “I’d never let you lose yourself.” At this point, the line between reality and role-play is blurred. You swallow, feeling the heat rush to your face as you add, “You mean too much to me. I’d never give you up.” 

Cal’s brows furrow for a moment, then an unreadable expression washes over his face, and you fear you’ve ruined the moment. You open your mouth to say something, but your words get swallowed by his lips capturing yours. A squeak of surprise escapes you as he kisses you with urgency, but you reciprocate, bringing your arms around him to pull him closer. Cal’s hands sneak around your waist, slipping underneath the outermost layer of robes which aren’t cinched by the belt, hugging you to him. 

After breaking for air momentarily, he tilts his head slightly and kisses you again, this time much calmer. He pushes against you and you take a couple steps back until your backside hits the railing, where the kisses shift into a slow make-out.

“Hey lovebirds!” a voice calls out to you suddenly, and you both flinch in surprise. Cal takes a step back to give you some space, holding onto your hand as he turns to the patio door. Sabine and Ezra wave at you from there and call you inside, several more heads peeking out as well to see the spectacle, and you hear a whistle or two accompanied by cheering.

You groan in embarrassment, burying your face into Cal’s shoulder, who laughs heartily, and you feel it vibrate through your whole body, heart still racing. 

”We’ll be right there!” Cal calls to the group, then turns back to you. He places one last kiss on your temple as he unclips your sword from his belt, offering it to you. 

“Ready to go recruit more people for our cause?” he asks with his boyish smile that you love so much.

You bring your hand up to run through his hair, smoothing it down a bit after messing it up, then take the weapon from his hand. 

“And take down anyone who stands in our way,” you reply, placing a quick kiss on the tip of his nose as you take off. “Race you!”

”Hey, no fair!” he calls after you with a laugh, already spotting another Jedi in the crowd. Truth is, he didn’t care if he turned to the dark or light, as long as he was with you.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght @galaxtic-writings @kalea-bane @padawancat97 @riddikulus-obsessions @optimisticprime3 @starilicious @ivelostmyabilitytoeven @alternatescififandomelover @lovelyygirl8 @cathyket @wildefire @ghostkestis @reckoning-star @wyvernthekriger @padawan-solimar @batboysandgirls @toelady @hardkiddonut @theblazes-world @bluesprings18 @call-me-a-fool @braveangel780 @mmcringelordmcgee

[dreameyess11]

Valentine

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

You’ve always been the type to sidestep romance. Flowers made you sneeze, chocolate was too sweet, and the idea of grand declarations sent shivers up your spine—not the good kind. For years, you prided yourself on being untouchable, untethered. Love was for people in books or movies, not for you.

Then Timothée happened.

You’re not sure when he started slipping past your walls. Maybe it was the way he laughed, quick and bright, like he couldn’t help it. Or maybe it was the way he tilted his head when you spoke, like he was peeling back the layers of your every word. Whatever it was, it was infuriatingly effective.

And now it’s Valentine’s Day, and you’re sitting across from him in a tiny Parisian café that feels plucked from a dream. He picked it, of course, because he’s Timothée and he knows how to set a scene. There’s a faint drizzle outside, blurring the lights into a soft halo around the windows, and he’s looking at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, almost absentmindedly, like it’s a fact he just remembered.

Your brain stutters. Pretty? You don’t know how to respond to that. “Uh, thanks?” you manage, your voice an octave higher than usual. “You’re, um, pretty too. Can I say that? Is that weird?”

Timothée laughs, low and warm, and it feels like the room tilts just a little. “It’s not weird,” he says, leaning forward, his chin resting on his hand. “But it’s kind of adorable that you’re overthinking it.”

You want to roll your eyes, to deflect, but he’s looking at you with such unguarded affection that it’s hard to hide. You fiddle with the edge of your napkin instead, trying to focus on anything other than the intensity of his gaze.

“This is weird for me,” you blurt out, surprising even yourself. “Like, I’ve rejected affection for years, and now I have it, and—damn it—it’s kind of weird.”

Timothée’s expression softens, and his hand reaches across the table to cover yours. “Weird’s okay,” he says. “Weird’s honest. I like honest.”

Your heart stumbles, then takes off at a sprint. He’s too much—too kind, too perceptive, too everything, and you’re terrified of what that means. But then his thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you, and you realize that maybe it doesn’t have to be terrifying. Maybe it can just be good.

The waiter arrives with dessert, breaking the moment, and you’re grateful for the distraction. It’s a shared plate of macarons in delicate pastel hues, and Timothée immediately pops a pink one into his mouth, humming in approval.

“Try the lavender one,” he says, holding it out to you with an encouraging smile.

You hesitate, then lean forward to take a bite. It’s soft and sweet, just like this moment, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself enjoy it.

Timothée grins, his lips dusted with sugar. “See? Not so bad, right?”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Not so bad.”

And as the rain taps gently against the window and Timothée starts rambling about the best macaron flavors, you think that maybe, just maybe, love isn’t as scary as you thought.

[maumausie]

Valentine’s Day Special

(Tragic edition)

Divider from this post

@pyxis-stellae come get yall juice :3

Ignore how unfinished this is

On a frigid, stormy winter day, much like the one raging outside the cozy little hole-in-the-wall cafe she was sitting in right now, Katya had fallen in love with Viktoria. Of course, back then every day had been frigid, being in the USSR and all, and they’d been much younger than they were now.

She sipped her coffee—black, no sugar. Greg always said that it was “just like her soul”. It took Katya six months to realize that it was his idea of a joke. Americans and their jokes. Viktoria was much funnier than any of her coworkers.

She shook her head and looked back outside. Little flurries of snow danced nimbly between raindrops like ballerinas, and her heart hurt something awful. They really could’ve been wonderful, if only Katya were anyone else. They had been so tiny the first time they’d met. Barely teenagers, much too skinny for her Babushka’s tastes, and faces sunken in from hunger. Not that it stopped Viktoria from being the most gorgeous thing in the goddamn room, even back then.

“Take a seat, dancers,” Ms. Lebedev said. “We have a new student.”

Katya hit the floor as quickly as was proper.

There was a soft, tentative knock on the door, and Ms. Lebedev turned to look. “Come in.”

The girl was pretty, in a way that Katya hadn’t seen in any other passersby. Shiny black curls haloed around her head, and the long sleeved, baby pink leotard she was wearing made her lovely dark sepia skin all the more striking.

She looks like an Angel, Katya had thought.

“Introduce yourself, girl,” Ms. Lebedev commanded in her gravelly ‘I’m-the-boss-listen-to-me’ voice. The girl fidgeted with the hem of her outfit and cleared her throat.

“Viktoria. Viktoria Orlova.” It was a strong name. It suited her perfectly, even with how she stared at her shoes and trembled through the scrutiny of all the other girls.

“Go sit by Ekaterina,” Ms. Lebedev instructed. “Katya, raise your hand.”

Katya raised her hand, waving at Viktoria. The girl waved back. As Viktoria sat down beside her, and Ms. Lebedev began talking about what they were doing today, Katya leaned over. “Hi,” she said.

“Hello.”

“Viktoria is a pretty name. Long, but pretty.”

“Thank you?” She said it like it was a question.

“You’re welcome,” Katya replied graciously. “Can I call you Vikusya?”

Viktoria nodded. “Only if I can call you Katya.”

That sounded fair to her. She held out her hand to shake on it. The newly christened Vikusya took it gingerly. Katya knew that it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Maybe more, whispered her horrible, aching heart. She stifled it. She wouldn’t ruin this like she ruined every other time. No matter how cute her button nose, and how her sweet voice was contrasted that determined fire in her eyes so beautifully.

[bellysoupset]

Sicily - Part 8 - the end

Piblished together because it's not long.

Not a sickfic, but I HIGHLY recommend reading this one, since it changes things from now on. Warning: tooth rotting fluff.

-------------------

Bella was still giggling as she finished turning off all the lights and made her way upstairs, shutting the bedroom door softly behind her.

She partially expected to find Lucas already asleep, but instead he was sitting on the edge of the bed, struggling with his tie.

"Got us the goods for tomorrow morning," she said, planting the little plate filled with snacks on top of the dresser and making her way to the bed. Luke let out a little "oof" as she pushed his arms out of the way and sat on his lap, starting to undo the knot of his tie.

"Did you have fun?" He asked, pushing a stray curl away from her eyes and Bella smiled, nodding and tugging on his tie, tempted to go teeth in. How did he manage to nearly choke himself in a piece of silk?

"I had a lot of fun," Bella said dreamily and she pulled on the cloth again, "goddammit, Lucas, what did you do to this?"

"No idea," he sighed in a defeated manner and fell flat on his back, taking her with him since she was holding his tie. Bella chuckled, moving so her knees were framing his torso, hands on each side of his head, "I'm trapped forever."

"Drama queen," she said with an eyeroll, leaning in to kiss him, "you know I love you, right?"

"I figured you had to at least like me after all these years," Luke said in a cheeky manner and Bella snorted, tugging on the tie again and forcing their eyes to meet.

"I'm serious, Lucas," she said, "I love you so much and I spent the longest time thinking it was going to, you know, calm down. Wear off a little bit-"

"Geez, Bell, you sure know how to make me feel-"

"Stop interrupting me," she glared at him, "I expected this to wear off a little. Not the love, but... The butterflies. The giddiness whenever I don't see you for a day..."

He opened a huge smile and opened his mouth to interrupt again, but Bella planted a finger over his lips, continuing, "but then I saw Maggie and Giuseppe this trip and they still act like valentines. She still lights up whenever he crosses the door, it's crazy..."

"Damn, baby, are you proposing to me?" Lucas laughed around the finger still pressed to his lips and Bella rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm fucking trying, you're not helping."

He let out a small chuckle, that died in his mouth as his eyebrows shot up, "wait, really?" Lucas scrambled sitting up, wrapping an arm around Bella's waist to stop her from falling off his lap and the bed, "you're proposing to me?"

"Yes," Bella smiled, taking immense pleasure in his bewildered face.

"...Are you pregnant?!"

"Ye- What? No!" She slapped his chest, "what the fuck, Luke?!"

"I'm sorry!" he cried out, eyes wide, "it's just- I thought you didn't want to marry me. Or anyone... Ever..." Lucas' whole face was turning pink, not in embarrassment, but excitement, "what made you change your mind?"

"I just told you, silly," Bell smiled, pushing a hair away from his eyes, "Ma and Giuseppe... I want that. I want to be almost sixty and lighting up when you walk in a room, Luke. And being in your family home, seeing you with Livia-"

"God, please, no," Lucas wrinkled his nose, "that was torture."

"Yeah, you were pretty bad at it," Bella agreed, pressing her forehead to his, "in fact you were pretty lame all weekend, you toasted idiot."

"I thought you were proposing to me-"

"And I'm just more in love with you," she scoffed, "can you believe?"

He let out an embarrassed chuckle and cupped the back of her head, pulling her into a kiss. Bella smiled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso.

"So..." she pulled back for air, "I'm gonna take that as a yes...?"

"You know damn right that's a yes. Let's marry right now," Lucas grinned, rolling them on the bed and Bella squealed, falling against the mattress, her hair creating a halo of auburn around her head.

"Okay, let's," she agreed, grabbing his tie again and Lucas, already attempting to kiss her neck, pulled back.

"...You mean that?"

Bella shrugged, her face on fire, which only caused Luke's smile to widen so much she could see his molars.

"Bell?"

"It's just... I love this place... And we leave in three days..." she avoided his eyes and Lucas studied her face, seeming serious.

"What about your mom...?" he squinted, genuinely considering getting up and getting married in the middle of the night.

"She doesn't care about this stuff, you know she married like four times, twice without me there," Bella rolled her eyes, "a big reason why I didn't want to marry in the first place, role model of all time."

He frowned, "and you don't want a party or like- I don't know, a princess dress...?"

"Did you forget who's your girlfriend?" Bella raised a quizzical eyebrow and he shrugged, blushing.

"You never know..." he bit down his lip, then tapped her thigh, "okay, get your shoes, let's get married."

Bella rolled her eyes, giggling, "it's 3 AM, baby-" Lucas grabbed her waist and threw her over his shoulder, causing her to let out a squeal.

"LUCAS! Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!"

"No, we're going to get married, where are my shoes-" His voice trailed off and Bella kicked the air, forcing him to straighten her up.

"Luke-" She was breathless, feet still not touching the ground as he held her up with an arm, but at least no longer upside down, "let's not piss off our only guests by waking them up at 3 AM, how about?"

He pouted, "but what if you change your mind in the morning?"

"I'm not going to change my mind, Lucas," she rolled her eyes, "besides, tonight is Vince's night, let him have it. We can break the news tomorrow at lunch, alright?"

"And then marry by dinner," he teased lightly, causing Bella to shake her head with a chuckle.

"Yeah, alright. And marry by dinner, put me down."

---------

"Stop squirming," Wendy berated her lightly and Bella pouted.

"I don't get why I can't get married in jeans," she scoffed, "Lucas would marry me in flip flops."

"Yes, he would," Ma agreed, "but the pictures will last forever, let's make them pretty."

Bella wasn't nervous. This was a spur of the moment decision, but it was the right decision. She was just giddy and having a hard time caring about all the little details that Wendy and Ma were caring.

"Sit still," Wendy scoffed again, tugging on the back of her dress. It wasn't even white or, remotely, a wedding dress. It reached just about her calves and Bella had insisted on putting her combat boots, no matter how much the other women grumbled about it. The dress was of a pale grey-beige, off shoulder and with extra fabric to be tied behind her back.

Unlike what Lucas wanted, they weren't getting married the very next day of her proposal. Ma had shaken her head vehemently at Bella's idea of them marrying in the backyard and said there was no way she'd let any of her kids marry anywhere that wasn't a chapel.

Luke had rolled his eyes at the prospect, but he didn't seem annoyed enough to die in this hill and so they had found a tiny chapel near the beach, that could fit the grand total of twenty people, if that.

"Alright, this is enough," Bella sighed, moving away from Wendy, despite the shorter girl complaining her hair was not done, "let's go. I don't wanna be late."

"Yeah, Luke might die of a heart attack," Wendy teased her lightly, rushing after Bell.

Vince was pacing just outside the tiny church and he opened a smile upon seeing them, "you all looks great," he said, giving Wendy a kiss before she took ma's arm in hers and they quickly entered the church.

"We're not doing the whole song thing," Bella said, when Vince took her arm in his and he shrugged.

"Don't steal my moment, would you?"

"Your moment?" the ginger chuckled, jabbing her elbow on his side and smoothing her dress, "do you think we're being insane?"

"Oh absolutely," Vince nodded, grinning even more when she made a surprised face, "but I'm frankly surprised this didn't happen sooner."

"It's Sicily getting to me," Bella whispered, then gulped down, feeling her stomach fill up with butterflies and her heart stutter as she saw Lucas at the end of the church aisle, bouncing and smiling.

She had said no to the music, but apparently Luke hadn't, because there was music playing, just not the nuptial march...

"Is that Nothing Else Matters in a piano?" Bella whispered as soon as she reached Lucas and he smiled, taking her hand in his.

"Figured I was safe going with one of your favorites," he whispered back and they turned to the man who officiating the wedding.

Bella didn't remember the actual vows. They hadn't bothered to write their own vows, but she did remember Luke sliding the ring in her finger, pressing his lips over the simple golden band with four rubies sitting on top. She wasn't aware he had a ring either and it made her heart jump, the fact he clearly had thought this through.

"When did you have time to pick this?" Bella whispered, voice choked up and Lucas only shrugged.

"Just had it lying about," he said in a playful manner and Bell sniffled, rolling her eyes.

"You may now kiss the bride" was met with claps and whistles from their little audience of eight people, while Lucas overeagerly grabbed her by the back of her head, smashing their lips together and bending Bella back.

She chuckled when they nearly fell, grabbing the lapels of his blazer and kissing him again, only to let out a squeal when he swooped her off her feet.

Their friends and family were still clapping and whistling as Luke carried her out of the church and to the beach, despite Bella screaming for him to put her down and that he was going to ruin her boots. She threw the bouquet of daisies off his shoulder and Leo caught it in the air out of reflex, only for Vince to yell "LEO CAUGHT THE BOUQUET!" and cause the blonde's face to turn beet red, as he dropped the flowers back in the wet sand.

"You're not gonna dunk your wife in the sea, you prick," Bella squealed, arms tightly wrapped around Luke's neck when he walked in the ocean and he smiled, eyes sparkling.

"Bet?"

And then a wave crashed onto them.

[zeravmeta]

Exia Alter Concept

Some rough 20 min sketch ideas I had for the conceptualized exia alter based on my post abt her:

Exusiai Alter- Divine Judgement

Some notes/inspirations under cut

So with Exia the idea was for her to become Lateranos emotionless machine, but actually given that this would be an Exia without her support system of Penguin Logistics and heavily altered by Lateranos The Law basement computer, I decided to go with a more "incredibly bitter and depressed overworked lonely person" vibe. As a result shes lost her smile, she barely eats these days, and whenever she isnt obliterating targets shes doing the proverbial 'girl-rotting'. While this Exia Would be less emotional than the og and would be akin to a true emotionless machine, the one emotion she does express more is pure unfiltered aggression and rage. Her hair is longer and unkempt, she does not take too well care of herself, and while she is cordial to most, the set of circumstances + Laterano essentially backhanding her by giving her a place back after kicking her out but Only as their ultimate weapon has left her super bitter. As well, while she is described as a savior to the public, her actual epithet would Divine Judgement, since she is for all intents and purposes The Big Gun that Laterano and The Law can shoot at whoever they dont like.

The stress of the alterations and the isolation that comes from being reduced to Lateranos ultimate weapon have snapped her halo clean in half, and have rearranged themselves to become floating horns on her forehead akin to fallen sankta horns/sarkaz horns. Her eyes were also altered to become literally eagle eyed, seeing through obstacles kinda like the classic sniper from tf2 which give her perfect accuracy. Her wings have also become altered and now aid in accuracy, being able to fly off her back and encircle an enemy, kind of like z-targeting from legend of zelda

Her general outfit was priestly robes ala Executors that she Did Not Take Care Of, and the sheer amount of missions + the collateral from the power of her new weapons have left them tattered. Her design also has a chain/prisoner element to it (with a pillory for her hands and feet since shes always floating everywhere now), since I wanted to convey that the power of Lateranos Ultimate Weapon was so perfected that safeguards were added to limit it to "tiers" of power, ala Alucard from Hellsing having different accessible levels of power allowed by Integra. Aside from that, her outfit also takes some inspiration from jack-o valentine & A.B.A. from Guilty Gear and C.C. from Code Geass, since they have a "restrained" / straight jacket element to them.

Her new weapons have upgraded heavily from beyond guns and jumping straight ahead to orbital satellite cannon. Whenever Laterano wants to obliterate a powerful enemy or a nation (or the oncoming end of the world), she literally flies overhead and annihilates them from orbit. I took this bit from both Artemis FGO and also Raid Raptor Ultimate Falcon from Arc V. Also yes the cannons spell ANGEL which I thought was funny because Exia also has ANGEL in bold print on her E2 art. I think an alternate take could have an A on one and a D on the other (Angel/Devil)

So yeah! Some of my design elements/inspirations for my exia alter, take 1

[empresskadia]

My next few fanfic posts are looking some like this;

[Unnamed title]- it’s a John-117 x Reader

Gentle Touches- 2.4

Valentine’s Day Headcanons [Red Team]

I’m thinking of asking for requests here soon, cause I would love to write out some ideas I’ve seen. I’m also working on a Naomi fanfic but that might get delayed cause I’m lowkey brain dead on that one and I feel like I need to finish the books first. Art wise, I’m trying to finish my second halo character, Lana [who somehow become cousins with Raya in my head.] and working on a full body piece for Nova as well as a portrait of Naomi.