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myvampyrez · 17 days

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ffvii jealousy headcanons 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

✧˖*°࿐ includes cloud strife, zack fair, sephiroth, reno, genesis rhapsodos, and angeal hewley

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

just a little something to satisfy you guys while i continue working on my requests!! already did a dmc one so might as well do a ffvii one too lol

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

jealousy (obviously), some possessiveness, intended lowercase, like one bullet point about post-nibelheim sephiroth, just a couple of guys who love the reader??, lmk if i missed anything !! 🎀

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓒LOUD — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ cloud is the type of person who will swear up and down that he doesn’t get jealous, but truth be told, he does. however, he doesn’t recognize it as jealousy at first.

❥ although, he definitely tries to shove his feelings down once he realizes that he’s somewhat upset. cloud won’t upright and confess that he’s jealous or go up to you when he sees someone flirting with you.

❥ cloud’s pretty understanding if you needed space or if you were just talking with someone else, he’s not gonna immediately resort to his insecurity.

❥ but once it’s a reoccurring experience, or if they know what they’re doing— or worse, if they’re actively flirting with you or touching you, then he’ll definitely start to get a little jealous.

❥ instead of actively confronting you or getting up in the flirt’s face, he’ll only watch afar at first. he’ll observe the conversation, the light touches, checking to see if you look uncomfortable or not.

❥ when it begins to become too much though, cloud’ll come up to you, saying something along the lines of how he needs you or needs your help and that it’s so urgent that you have to come with him asap.

❥ if you even insinuate that he got jealous though, he’ll deny it to the moon and back and say that it never happened. he may act like he doesn’t care, but don’t let it fool you. cloud cares about you way too much to let you be slobbered over at a bar by a disrespectful dude.

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. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓩ACK — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ i feel like zack’s semi into pda? as long as he’s not around the firsts or anybody important, especially angeal, then he just can’t wait to show you off. he can’t help it, poor boy loves you too much 😭 so because of the somewhat pda, i dont see a lot of people trying to flirt with you— especially knowing that your boyfriends a SOLDIER.

❥ i dont think he’d even notice at first, too busy talking to you to even notice that theres someone who has your attention also. i cant see anybody really trying to flirt with you though, zack’s like that one small dog who keeps yapping at your feet when you get to close to its owner.

❥ zack is very vocal!! if the person interrupts your conversation, he will blatantly call them out on it. he’d narrow his eyes at them and just say, “hello, i was talking to them??” because who interrupts people like that?? plain rude!!

❥ saw this in another post and i totally agree with it, zack’ll joke and joke with underlying messages behind these said ‘jokes’ and definitely has the mindset of, “what can they offer when you have me???” he just doesn’t see how they catch your attention or why they’re talking to you while hes sitting right there??

❥ will bend over backwards just for your attention, he will pout otherwise if he doesn’t get your full undivided attention after his attempts.

❥ will probably annoy the person after you’re gone by either passive-aggressively interrogating them or ranting about how in love he is with you. he’s like the cartoons where they hold their chin in their palm with heart eyes as they look up all dreamy with a giant thought bubble that’s just you. he can’t help it, he just loves you too much (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞!!1!1!

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. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓢EPHIROTH — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ for pre nibelheim (because i miss soft and not crazy sephiroth), i cant see him getting all that much jealous? i guess he’d get more so protective if he sees someone all up on you— but otherwise, he’s pretty laid back about it. he puts a lot of his faith in you entrusting that you won’t break it, so i cant see him going crazy over it.

❥ i think sephiroth’s mature enough to not cause a scene even if he was jealous, though. he wouldn’t be petty or actively try to keep you away from anybody pre nibelheim, although he finds it amusing how they try to flirt with you.

❥ he especially has to have trust in you considering he’s a first class!! unless you are also a SOLDIER or you’re associated with shinra, you guys will spend semi-large gaps of times apart. he doesn’t think you’d betray him like that though, he’s mature enough to have a conversation if he’s really worried.

❥ sephiroth has his moments of insecurity, but usually when he’s off duty— he’ll be with you. i’m just imagining sitting at a bar with sephiroth as he’s literally right beside you while this persons trying to slide up next to you lol. i also don’t think sephiroth gets jealous because he knows his worth and know he can be intimidating when he wants to be!! even just his teasing makes people quiver in their fuckin boots lmao. i doubt anybody would wanna mess with a first class SOLDIER who’s fit and over 5’11” / 180cm.

❥ after they either get intimidated or realize their advances aren’t working and that you’re happily in a relationship with sephiroth and leave, he’ll chuckle to himself as he thinks aloud about how silly it was to even attempt to get with you, knowing who you’re with. on the off chance that he’s feeling a little possessive or something, he’s not one for pda but he might just give you a kiss after they leave and a quick murmur of amusement due to their foolishness.

❥ now!! post-nibelheim!! you’re not even gonna be out of his sight enough to be hit on considering he’s kinda like.. a war criminal in a sense 😭. he’s much more possessive in his little silly criminally existentially crisis insane arc, never letting you leave alone or even go out in public that often. he’s much more obsessed with you after his break, so if he finds someone even making advances on you?? ooh, boy.

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. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓡ENO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ reno is one weird little dude, let me tell you that. every time i think of reno, i think of a cat. with a suit. suit cat.

❥ reno does get jealous a lot of the time, even if he is usually all up on you anyways. he still is a turk and also has to spend some time away from you, leading to overlapping thoughts of you while he’s away, maybe not even just possessive but also about if something happened to you. nothing could cure these thoughts better than a little phone sex, though.

❥ i’d like to think reno’s into pda as long as he’s not at work, poor rude having to witness wet kisses on your cheek with a lazy arm slung across your shoulder ever day. so i can’t really imagine anybody trying a bunch of stuff with you when usually— reno’s not too far behind.

❥ if reno happens to be not right next to you and he’s just doing his own thing and he happens to GLANCE AT YOU? AND HE SEES SOMEONE HITTING ON YOU?? instant slide next to you.

❥ he’s petty enough to start calling you all these pet names while he’s sitting next to you, wrapping his arm around you while he’s sizing the flirt up. he’ll look them up and down with a hard stare and maybe throw some passive aggressive comments every once in a while.

❥ he’ll probably make them uncomfortable (unless they wanna square up, because knowing reno, he might just charge if the person reciprocates his belligerent comments) so by the time they already leave, reno’s already whining against you as he asks what that was all about, acting all clueless afterwards. but you can tell just from the tone that laces his voice that he knows what he’s doing lol.

❥ he’s just a petty guy, maybe not so much possessive because i mean you can go out wherever you want wearing whatever you want (maybe after a small quickie at home if it’s something revealing), he can fend for you. he swears he’s your knight in shining armor no matter how much he teases you lmfao

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. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓐NGEAL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ now here’s the real knight in shining armor™!!!! angeal is your savior if you’re ever in an uncomfortable situation, although he doesn’t really get jealous at all— he’s just very observant of you.

❥ angeal has a whole thing about how in a relationship you must have faith and he’s very comfortable with both you and himself. he’s happy in your relationship and he is secure with himself!! if zack ever sees you two together and he’s like “(」°ロ°) 」??”, bombarding him with questions as usual, then i can just see angeal giving zack a talk on how to treat women and the gentleman way of approach— although zack is very respectful, it’s just in angeals nature to lecture.

❥ he won’t think anything of it when someone you know sits with you, you guys usually know each others relatives and friends well enough to trust them. but he’s a little iffy when a random stranger starts chatting you up.

❥ angeal obviously trusts you!! again, unless you’re a SOLDIER (which he wouldn’t prefer only because he worries about your well being), then you guys will have to spend some time apart. he has a lot of faith in you and will always write you when he’s away, letting you know he’s always thinking of you while you’re apart.

❥ if anything, he’ll save you if he notices you’re uncomfortable or something along those lines. he’ll swiftly say he needs your for something and apologizes to the person out of courtesy that he interrupted your guys’ conversation, but oh it’s so urgent, we must retreat!! and i must hold you hand in hand while we run off and do totally boring SOLDIER duties!!

❥ omfg then he pulls you aside and asks if you’re okay and ugh i just want him so bad. like sephiroth, he’ll also explain how foolish it was to even hit on you when you’re clearly happily in a relationship with him. you two’ll walk along back to hq (?) or whatever while you talk about how odd the encounter was.

❥ so in conclusion !! angeal is a gentleman and doesn’t get jealous / protective unless he thinks you’re in trouble or you’re clearly uncomfortable. angeal hewley to the rescue!!!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓖ENESIS — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ this dramatic bitch.

❥ genesis is so petty that he’ll probably consider the possibility that you’re flirting back? and then proceed to ignore you or leaving you off with some esoteric poetry while he tends to his duties. he is first class, after all.

❥ if he’s sitting right next to you though, and he hears that you’re not flirting with them. he’s petty enough like reno where he’ll suddenly be throwing out all these dramatic pet names and throw longing glances towards you, except he won’t even spare a glance towards the other person— simply only paying attention to you.

❥ id consider genesis a jealous person, but i do think that most of it strikes a protective instinct within him. he does understand that he’s also a first class SOLDIER meaning he’ll have to trust you, but he has way too much time on his hands to think. also like angeal where he’ll write you as much as he can— except he’ll send you mindless poems he writes or favored quotes of LOVELESS.

❥ in the case that you leave to go to the bathroom or any sort of occasion, genesis would probably scare the other person or make them feel uncomfortable as well. but when you return and they’re gone, he’ll act so clueless. all, “whatever do you mean, dearest?”

❥ another instance where i don’t think anybody would try anything with you. like angeal and sephiroth, genesis is a first class SOLDIER. everybody knows these dudes are the real shit (well, mainly only sephiroths talked about, but it applies to genesis and angeal too!!) so hes all smug parading you around as he side eyes every person who gawks at you. of course he knows you’re beautiful, but your beauty is too much for these fools to comprehend. so yes, he must glare at every single of them.

❥ and yes, also like his companions, he will jeer and whine about how silly it was to try that with you when you two are alone. i can even see genesis pulling a cloud and just whisking you away claiming you need to do something and then act like nothing happened afterwards. either that, or he’ll overdo it and claim to be your angel— no in between.

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frankcastleonlyfans · 2 years

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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍, 𝐃.𝐓

pairing: daemon targaryen x martell!reader

summary: y/n dreamed about the man she was promised since she was born. (I AM REALLY BAD AT SUMMARIES SORRY 😭)

words: 4.0k

author's note: part two is right here.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

warnings: enemies to lovers, descriptions of blood, descriptions of combat, mentions of sex

18+ warning

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

The beauty of Y/N Martell was known throughout all Westeros. Daughter of a Martell lord with a Velaryon lady, the girl had beautiful silver hair and lilac eyes that highlighted her warm skin tone. The Sand Dragon is how they called her, even though lady Y/N wasn't a dragon herself. She had valyrian blood, but wasn't a Targaryen.

House Martell wanted power, and for that, they needed the biggest and greatest weapon the kingdom has ever known. King Viserys couldn't put a dragon egg in dornish hands, not without a marriage to finally bound the houses that once had been in war.

Lord Martell offered Y/N's hand to the king, right after she was born and her father saw potential in her valyrian features, but Viserys kindly refused, saying that he already had a wife, who also just gave birth to a girl, princess Rhaenyra. The monarch mentioned his younger — and single — brother, who could do well with a wife. Lord Martell accepted the king's matchmaking, and promised the hand of his newborn child to Prince Daemon.

As a gift, the king gave the little baby a dragon egg, saying it was only for the future princess. It was a precious treasure, something that the dornish people had never seen before. The egg was in color white, with golden details in its scales. It hatched a couple months later, and a female dragon was born. Lady Velaryon called it Faora.

Obviously, King Viserys knew they had to wait until baby Y/N became of age and ready to settle into marriage. As a child, she was told that her destiny had been traced, and her future husband was a cruel, and yet brave, Targaryen warrior. Y/N never met him, but she fell for the idea of him. A brave and handsome prince, who killed everyone that tried to harm the crown. She wanted to be like him, the man of her dreams.

At the age of 8, Lady Y/N started training. She was an excellent dragonrider, even though she was young. The Targaryen children start riding their dragons at even younger age, and Y/N insisted she wanted to be like them, so she could impress her Prince with her riding skills. Y/N also started battle training, and her father gifted her with a sword. Of course it wasn't something precious like valyrian steel, but it meant something to her. Her thin sword soon would become an object of fear to her enemies.

Her parents fed the girl's desire of becoming a warrior like her promised fiancé, but deep down she knew that it was all for nothing. Learning to ride her dragon was a necessity, since it was given to her, but she was never going to war, even if she wanted to. Years and years becoming the best swordswoman in Dorne, all for nothing.

Years later, Y/N finally became of age. She was 19 when her parents finally received an invitation to the royal annual tournament in King's Landing, where she would be introduced to the Prince, and they would wed before the competition.

"A tourney." She thought. Y/N never went to war, but she defeated every dornish soldier in combat. What was the difference between the king's soldiers and dornish soldiers? None. She could defeat them all.

They arrived in King's Landing in time for the tournament. Lord Martell explained to the king that his daughter was an excellent swordswoman, and would be representing House Martell at the competition. Viserys agreed and gave his permission for the girl to fight, even though he found it a crazy idea letting a young lady compete in a tournament against warriors and soldiers from all Westeros.

Whispers echoed loudly in the castle's walls. The staff talked a lot around her, and the maids tried to be quiet every time she entered a room. Eventually, Y/N heard gossip about the Prince she never met, her prince. He found a new lover, a whore. Of course Y/N never expected him to be in chastity until marriage, he is a man after all. But, she felt strange. Angry, perhaps? No, she wasn't angry. It was too predictable to be angry about it. Sad? Ha, Y/N never felt sad in her entire life, she had everything she could ever ask for. This was different, it was a new feeling. It was like someone took her conquest from her, something that was supposed to be hers. She felt... jealous. So maybe she was sad and angry, but it was all the bad feelings mixed up in one.

A maid was sent to call the sand dragon to the gardens, Princess Rhaenyra's orders. Our highness wanted to meet the beauty herself, and see if the dornish girl was everything they say. The princess discovered that Y/N was everything she heard and so much more. Every hint of doubt faded, and she thought that the girl could make her uncle happy. They had a bunch of things in common, and it would be funny to watch Daemon dealing with someone tough like him, even more so a woman.

"Tell me, my princess," The soldier started, "what does your uncle look like? Everyone tells me he's handsome. The most handsome Targaryen man since King Maegor. They say he's quite a brute like Maegor too." Y/N chuckled.

"Oh no, he's nothing like Maegor was. Maybe he's a brute in battle, but I promise you he's a nice man if you break his protection shell. He's a bit grumpy, but nothing you can't handle with your sword." Rhaenyra jokes.

"Don't you find it weird that I'll be the first woman competing in a royal tournament?" Y/N questioned. The princess smiled and placed a comforting hand on the warrior's shoulder.

"I find it inspiring. There's a lot of female dragonriders in my family, but the bravery was lost since Visenya and Rhaenys conquered our lands alongside Aegon. They were true soldiers, not just dragonriders. I don't even know how to use a sword." Rhaenyra laughed and Y/N smiled. Being used as an inspiration was the best compliment someone gave to her. It wasn't about her exotic beauty, but her skills.

A couple of days went by without Y/N meeting her prince. She heard the staff saying he was in Dragonstone with his whore, and he would stay there until the tournament day. Clearly he was avoiding meeting her. How weird was being engaged with someone for 19 years? To her it made no difference, but Daemon was 17 years old when his brother told him the boy was engaged to a baby.

Daemon was curious about the dornish dragon. He heard stories about her, and how she never lost a single combat against the dornish warriors. Daemon thought they were all weak, the dornish. Those people who always wanted to be independent, but the first chance they had to marry into royalty, they took it. She was no different. He wasn't gonna let himself be fooled by a pretty face. Marrying for duty wasn't gonna stop him from being with Mysaria.

King Viserys himself went to Dragonstone to bring his brother back to King's Landing, a week before the tournament day. Daemon came back home, leaving his lover behind. The king told him about the young lady, trying to make Daemon a little bit more interested in the girl. Viserys said he saw the girl training for the tournament, and that she could have chances of winning. That made Daemon laugh, reminding his brother that he would be the one representing House Targaryen, and that there was no way a dornish girl would beat him. The King reminded his younger sibling that the "dornish girl" was soon to be his wife.

The prince insisted for his brother that he didn't have to meet the girl before the marriage ceremony, since he already knew she was beautiful and didn't have anything to worry about. He said he wanted to cut the boring parts, since he waited 19 years for this day to come. Viserys agreed without questioning, but truth be told, Daemon just wanted to do whatever had to be done, and then go back to Dragonstone and his lover.

The following day, Y/N met her prince, the one she has been dreaming of her whole life. The one it was promised to her. That tall, handsome man in front of her was such a sight to see. Daemon Targaryen was in formal clothes, the top of his long hair was braided, and the serious demeanor in his face made him look even more gorgeous.

Daemon felt weird in her presence. His eyes had never laid in such beauty, part of the lady's silver hair was braided on the top of her head, while the back part fell on her shoulders like a water cascade. Y/N was wearing a beautiful, and quite revealing, bare shoulders yellow dress, reminding everyone where she's from.

The Rogue Prince chose to wed in the valyrian way, by "fire and blood", like most Targaryen couples do. King Viserys was the officiant, so the ceremony happened in the throne room. There were only a few members of the family, and The Hand, witnessing the valyrian wedding.

He never kissed her after that. The prince took her to his chambers because it was what they expected him to do, not because he wanted a complete stranger invading his space.

"So," Lady Y/N broke the awkward silence. It's been 10 minutes since they entered the room and Daemon faced his window. "should I undress?"

"It depends." Daemon muttered, "I don't want you to get sexually frustrated, if it happens once and never again."

"I see. You think there's not enough of my husband for me and his whore?" Y/N spat and Daemon turned to look at her, "Don't you worry, your highness. I would never get sexually frustrated because of you. I wouldn't be alone either."

"I could have you punished for that, you know? I don't know how things work in Dorne, but here a woman should respect her husband!"

"In Dorne, men are castrated if caught in adultery. That's why we are in favor of open marriage. That's when both parts are fine with being in the company of other people." Y/N said with a smile.

"Dornish people are crazy!" Daemon replied, annoyance was cleared in his voice.

"I'd say dornish people are evolving faster than the rest of the realm. You people should learn something with us. Now, since we're not having our wedding night, I'll rest." The princess took her dress and corset, falling onto the mattress right after.

Prince Daemon watched her undress, her perfect body being covered only by her golden nightgown. Men say that dornish women are the most beautiful creatures in the seven kingdoms, but Y/N was different. She had the flush of Dorne, and the features of Old Valyria. Her curves were hypnotic and her lilac eyes were magnetic. Sure, she was a true temptation, but Daemon was a warrior before a man. A real soldier could resist any kind of human desire, he was trained to resist any kind of need.

Y/N on the other hand, was mad. She fell for someone she had never met, the idea of a prince that only existed in her mind. Daemon was everything she pictured him to be, but she expected the same love towards her. Her broken expectation turned into anger. She felt motivated. Y/N wanted to make the Rogue Prince fall onto his knees and beg for her forgiveness. She wanted him to banish his whore from Dragonstone, and promise she was the only woman in his life from now on.

There was only one day left until the tournament. The Rogue Prince and The Sand Dragon had been sleeping in separate rooms. The dornish woman had been the most commented topic in gossip around the castle since she came to King's Landing, and it seemed like it was going to take long until it ceased.

Y/N trained in the gardens, also teaching Rhaenyra the basics in sword fighting. The princesses became friends really quickly, and Y/N felt like she wasn't alone anymore.

Her parents weren't talking to her, since people had been saying that she offended the prince and he regretted marrying her. Of course the staff noticed Daemon leaving their shared chambers in the middle of the night, that's all they've been talking about for days.

Rhaenyra was happy to find in Y/N a true friend and a good company, never leaving her lonely again. Syrax also found a true friend in Faora.

On the dragonpit, Rhaenyra took Y/N to meet the royal dragons and the place where the dornish's dragon had been staying at. The sand princess met Meleys, Dreamfyre, and Seasmoke. She had already met Syrax, since the Targaryen girl took her new friend flying the other day.

And then she saw him, the Blood Wyrm, with his red scales and long neck. He roared whistling loudly, but she wasn't intimidated by him. Caraxes moved in her direction, and lowered his head, where his nose was right in front of her. He huffed, making her silver hair fly. Chuckling, Y/N stretched her hand to pet him, which the dragon accepted gladly.

"He likes you." Rhaenyra smiled, "That's rare, he usually doesn't like anyone. Quite like my uncle, actually."

Y/N laughed as her fingers danced through the dragon's scales, "Well noticed."

"Do you want to go riding? I'll ask someone to saddle Syrax and Faora." Rhaenyra said and Y/N nodded, watching the princess leave the dragonpit.

The girl hummed as the dragon softly huffed to her touch. His warm scales getting even hotter under her hand, his eyes closing in comfort. He didn't seem like a menace much more than one of the cats in the castle.

"You're not so scary, aren't you?" Y/N smiled, and touched her forehead against the dragon, "No, you're not. I bet you're just like your daddy. Your tough act can't fool me, neither can his."

Caraxes opened his eyes and stared at the girl with his beautiful orange gaze. The dragon loved the attention he was getting.

"You're such a handsome boy. That's another thing you have in common with Daemon,"

The lady turned around to the masculine chuckle behind her, "Oh, really?"

The prince cocked his eyebrow. The sassy voice was noticeable.

"Please, don't mind me. I was quite enjoying your little chit-chat with my dragon." Daemon smirked and the princess rolled her eyes.

"Don't get too cocky, my prince. At least Caraxes knows how to behave in a lady's presence." Y/N shrugged and turned back to the dragon.

Daemon looked around, watching the magnificent white dragon on the corner of the pit. Her golden eyes shone in the darkness of the place. The prince took a few steps, and the dragon came closer to him. Caraxes watched the scene with caution, feeling a little tense to see his master so close to an unknown dragon.

Faora lowered her head to be in Daemon's height. She looked at her owner, expecting an order. The princess just smiled, and the dragon slightly pushed the prince's body with her nose making him laugh. Caraxes huffed again, this time in annoyance.

"You know," Daemon started, making the princess look at him, "I always thought my brother was a fool for giving you the egg. Dorne could be in possession of a dragon and decide to start a war. That's what I would have done."

Daemon placed his hand on the dragon's nose, that purred to his touch like a kitten.

"Using animals as weapons is a Targaryen thing, my prince. We are soldiers, we are trained to fight and win. Dragonfire is an advantage. To be brave is the real conquest, even if dying with it." The princess blurted out.

"And yet, it is dragonfire that reigns." The prince walked towards his wife.

"Life isn't always fair." Y/N said, her voice sounding lower than she expected. He was too close to her, his tall figure was covering her body.

Their violet eyes met. Daemon felt the urge to touch her, to feel her warm skin against his fingertips, but he controlled himself. Y/N took a deep breath, trying not to look intimidated.

Rhaenyra appeared at the entrance of the dragonpit, taking Y/N's attention. The dornish girl quickly vanished from the prince's sight, taking her friend's hand without saying a word.

The tournament day finally came. Y/N felt like it was the day to shut everyone down. The maids didn't even tried to hide anymore, gossiping in codes right in front of her, like she was some sort of stupid lady that couldn't understand what they're saying.

No one could look at Y/N and say she wasn't a lady. The most shining armor in her body and the sharpest sword in her hand wouldn't take away the femininity in her. She always fought with beauty and grace, making violence look pretty when done by her hands.

So she fought. One, two, three, more and more soldiers of the king were defeated by dornish hands. House Martell standards were held up high with pride. Prince Daemon was also winning combat alongside his beloved Dark Sister, but Y/N didn't let herself be bothered with the chance of fighting against her husband.

Y/N almost lost the fight against Ser Criston Cole. She fell from her horse, landing on the ground brutally. Her shoulder felt injured under the golden armor, probably badly bruised. The crowd looked shocked once she was back on her feet and someone came running to give her her sword.

Ser Criston made a great job knocking her out of the horse, but winning that fight wasn't going to be that easy. She made that very clear once her foot was on his chest, and the tip of her sword touched his face. He immediately surrendered.

Everyone cheered for her. The talents of dornish warriors were known throughout the country, but no one expected the girl to fight a real soldier.

Banners with the Targaryen symbol were raised. People cheered loudly for their prince, watching his glorious entrance. Daemon came on top of a black sorrel, wearing a black armor. His helmet drived attention, especially because of the wings and scales innit, reminding a dragon. He wanted to prove a point and show everyone what the house of the dragon was made of.

Y/N hopped on her horse again, taking a deep breath. They were both in place, staring at each other across the field. She held her spear in his direction, aiming for his chest. It took three rounds until one of them met the ground, and that was Daemon. Screaming for his sword, he watched the girl gracefully getting out of the saddle. Y/N took her own sword out of her helper's hand, and stayed defensive as the prince got closer to her.

"You should surrender, wife. I really don't want to hurt your pretty face" Daemon said in wit, as he swung his sword towards her.

Y/N smirked through the loud noises of the steel hitting against each other.

"You should be the one to surrender, my lord! I am not going anywhere," Her sword went straight to his face, where Daemon deviated from having his cheek cut.

Dark Sister's blade opened a wound in the lady's arm, splashing blood in it's length. Y/N whimpered in pain, but found enough strength to kick Daemon away from her. He took a few steps back, trying not to lose his balance as she came fearless in his direction. She screamed as her attack went for his neck, but the valyrian blade blocked her sword's way. Daemon grabbed her braids, and the girl could feel the cold steel against her neck.

"Surrender," Daemon mumbled against her ear.

"I'd rather die," She muttered between gritted teeth.

"If you don't surrender, I'll make it a tie. It will be disgraceful, since it's the same as losing in a shameful way." The prince threatened in a low voice.

There was no way of getting out of this. She was bleeding, and with a blade on her neck at his mercy.

They looked at each other. They had never been this close again since the day in the dragonpit. She could feel his warm breath against her ear. Moving her head slowly and getting even more close to him, their lips met. Daemon tasted salty, and one of them had definitely a bleeding mouth.

Daemon's grip around the sword loosened, and for seconds he forgot where they were. The place went completely silent, it was like no one was watching. His hand let go of her hair and went for her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin.

Completely free, Y/N opened her eyes and took a dagger out of a compartment in her trousers, slowly taking it to the prince's throat. She broke the kiss and went behind him, getting out of his sight, deepening the blade against his skin.

"Surrender," She whispered.

Daemon groaned once he realized her move, and touched her arm patting it for surrender.

"Lady Y/N of House Martell is the great winner of the tournament!" King Viserys announced.

Y/N tossed her dagger against the floor, finally relaxing her body after so much effort. She looked at her arm, bleeding out where part of her armor was destroyed. She didn't realize how much blood she was losing until then. Some drops were falling in the ground.

"Daemon" Y/N called, feeling her vision getting blurry and her legs getting weak.

The prince turned around in perfect timing to catch her before she fall. Her skin wasn't so warm anymore. Her eyes were shut closed, and worry took over Daemon.

When Y/N woke up, she was all alone in her chambers. She noticed someone had stitched her wounds, and her mouth tasted like milk of the poppy. She had a bad headache, and her shoulder was badly bruised from her fall. None of her maids were in sight, so she had nowhere to go.

Y/N closed her eyes again and tried to sleep a little more. That's when she heard the door opening noise. She sat on the bed, and watched prince Daemon entering the room.

"Oh, you're awake. Do you want me to get your maids? You must feel hungry," Daemon sat in front of her and took her hand, checking out her body temperature.

Y/N frowned. She couldn't recall what happened. "What time is it?"

"It's late, actually. I came to see you before heading to my room." Daemon muttered, analyzing the walls and the whole new decoration that the princess had done to his old chamber.

"This is your room, I'm invading your space. I should be the one to sleep in another place." She mumbled, playing with her fingers and avoiding his gaze.

"This is our room," He said, "it just took me a while to see it."

Y/N raised her head and their eyes met. She lost her words, and had no idea how to reply to that. Did he confess something? Did he like her?

"What happened? I remember... kissing you." She frowned once she noticed that her memories were kinda blurry.

"You did that. And, you used the kiss to distract me. You won." Daemon smiled.

"Well, I must say I'm not surprised. I'm really that good." She said playfully and the prince laughed.

"Yes, you are." Daemon smiled without showing his teeth, "How's your arm? I'm really sorry about that."

"It hurts but I'll be fine. And, we both know that you didn't mean for this to happen, Daemon. You have nothing to be sorry for." Y/N placed a comforting hand on his thigh.

Daemon looked at her hand, and placed his own on top of hers, giving it a little squeeze.

"Stay with me tonight." She asked softly.

"I will."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagines #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #house of the dragon imagines

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rainroses45 · 1 year

Text

(Sully family x daughter reader)

description: you are Neteyam’s twin sister and you always try to please your father

a/n: I honestly need some sad fanfic right now so i decided to do it myself…(not edited)

song inspiration: Cherry-colored funk

You were twins, two of the same people. You shared a birth, a home, a face, everything. Neteyam and you were the eldest of the family. Dad expected the both of you to be the role models. The co-captains of the ‘squad’. A role not chosen, but forced upon by the lectures and trainings throughout your childhood. You felt like a misplaced puzzle piece, constantly being shoved into different spots of a picture you weren’t apart of. They tried, oh how they tried to make you be the perfect fit. They cut you apart, shaved off your links that belonged to another puzzle piece, but it was no use, you were an outcast. Not only by your blood, but by your abilities.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You thought back on today as you stared at the sky. The world was seeping in with your thoughts to the point you couldn’t tell where the crashing sound was coming from. Each wave came harder than the last, its current was strong and frightful, you wanted to make peace with it but weren’t quite sure how to confront it.

Today was a rough day, it wasn’t just how you failed to fit in with the clan, but you got into a fight with the chief’s son. Once again it wasn’t your fault, but it made your dad’s life so much easier to just place the blame on you. No matter how hard you tried to explain yourself, how hard you tried to defend your sister’s honor, nothing was ever put to justice with him in rule. He was the general and you were merely a soldier who served nothing more than another number, another responsibility, another disappointment.

His words still echoed through your thick skull. Its memory brought back the deep waves of depression and hopelessness. The liquid falling from your eyes wasn’t from the ocean, it physically pained you to be associated always as the disappointment of the family.

“I asked you all for one thing! One thing, and you guys completely disregarded it!” Your dad yelled at you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, his fury rolled off of him in red waves. His tone and volume made you feel unsafe.

“Sir I take full blame,” Neteyam butted into the lecture, again trying to take the fall. I glared at him, he needs to stop doing that.

“Neteyam you need to stop taking the blame for your siblings. Go, I will talk to you later.” Neteyam sighed nodding back in acceptance, he looked at me in sadness and walked out the mauri. Lo’ak began to also leave thinking he was going to get away lecture free, but was soon shut down.

“Don’t think I don’t see you Lo’ak, I will talk to you next.” Your father stated with his arms crossed in disapproval. Lo’ak looked down grumbling, then left leaving me alone with my father.

“I asked for one thing Y/n. One simple order, and you completely disregard it!” Your father turned his attention towards you.

“But sir-“ You tried to explain yourself hoping it would ease the tension. Once news of the fight was heard, he kicked everyone out except you and your brothers, so much for your siblings right now. No one dared to argue back except your mother, but she was quickly distracted by Tuk’s calls.

“No more excuses Y/n! I’m tired of hearing your excuses.” He interrupted you, his words getting harsher and harsher.

“But sir Kiri-“ You tried once again to explain your reasoning, but you were shut down by your father.

“Do you even care about this family?” He glared at you letting his hands form into fists. His death glare cause you to tremble in anger and fear.

“What?” You looked at your father in shocked. How could he ask such a thing? You would die for this family. You would give up anything for your family. “Of course I do sir.” Your voice was shaky and dry while your hands sweat from nervousness.

“Then why are you acting so selfish? Why can’t you be like Neteyam and listen to me?” He asked you with his arms lazily open, waiting patiently for your ‘excuse’. His words hit you deep. Why couldn’t you be like Neteyam?

“I do dad! I try dad- I mean sir, I truly do try.” You looked everywhere until you finally met your father’s gaze once more. At this point tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

“Stop lying!” He screamed, you slowly began to move back from your spot. Your dad looked down to let out a sigh then looked back at you with his hands on his hips. “You’re dismissed, I don’t want to see you right now.”

With that final response you left the area and went to the isolated beach. It wasn’t suppose to end like that.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Guys,” you softly yelled as you swam towards a nearby rock. Your wounds began to ache more and more. The adrenaline was wearing out and you felt yourself slowly give up. You put your everything during the battle, taking down the sky people left and right, protecting the Metkayina and your family from harm.

Your lungs began to burn, but you couldn’t stop now; you picked your head up to see if anyone was on the rock or near by. Smiling you see your brother laying on the rock, you called out to him. “Neteyam!” The pure joy in your voice was so true and loud. “Neteyam!” You yelled once again, your spirit blossomed giving you the energy to swim towards the rock. During the short distance, you thought nothing of the silence or how your twin never responded back to your calls.

“Neteyam,” you said as you climbed the rock slowly, being careful to not cause any more damage to your open wounds. You touched your brother’s shoulder - it was cold. Your eyes widen at the blood staining your brother’s skin. He’s dead.

You drop your head down, letting your tears fall at the sudden loss, and then looked up to the sky screaming. Screaming for the loss of your twin. Screaming for the pain of not saving him. Screaming because you have only yourself to blame. It was always your fault. One of the only people who stood up for you, who truly loved you for you. He was gone. You didn’t get to say thank you, and you never will.

You slowly laid down next to your brother as sobs escaped. The pain of your wounds was soon forgotten and replaced with the loss of your brother. This is who the both of you are, a product of war. A product that stood no chance in the current. Loving any of us was a death sentence, wasn’t it? If you put everything into perspective, he fell but hit the ground; you fell and there nothing was there to catch you.

You looked back at all your memories, you wouldn’t apologize for your actions, nor would you regret what you have done, but you were truly sorry for the ending of it all. You didn’t know that you too would fill the ocean, and still not leave a permanent mark behind.

You watched the stars as the sky grew hazy and blissful. The pain was too much to bare, it was torturous. Rivers of red issued from your veins to be greeted by the sweet air. Your body ’s temperature dropped every second making it harder to fight off the breeze. You wished to go home and lay in the green moss. You wished you could visit the spirt tree, you wished you could talk to your older brother once more.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•

“Dad where is Y/n?” Kiri asked as they swam away from the drowning ship. Everyone was rescued and the sky people were finally taken care of. It wasn’t until this question was asked that a new problem arose.

“Lo’ak where did you leave your little sister?”Neytiri asked holding on to Tuk who was trying to free herself from her mother’s iron grip.

“She was fighting off one of the sky people, before I left.” He tried to recall back everything the has happened, but it was too blurry. Memories seemed to fade or be miss sequenced in his mind.

“Mama!” Tuk called out pointing towards the rock where Neteyam laid. “Mama look!” She demanded trying to grab her mother’s attention.

“What is it my sweet daughter?” The family turned around to face where the young child was pointing at. It was the rock where Neteyam rested, but there appears to be another body laying there. Quickly your family began to swim, hoping it was you on the rock.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Is it okay if i give up?” You asked to the darkness. Not knowing your family was nearby; they all began to swim faster trying to reach you. Your body was so tired, oh so very tired. The loss of blood and hope took a role on your body. You felt lethargic and on fire, like a ragged doll being burned alive. You were on the verge of closing your eyes when the sound of splashing and gasps were heard.

“My sweet daughter, oh my sweet daughter,” your mother wailed as she grasped your head into her arms. Your family saw your condition and they knew, oh they knew.

Your father climbed up the rock quickly after seeing how much blood you lost. “No, no, hold on there baby. I got you, I got you.” Your dad whispered as he turned you around to check your wounds. Two bullet holes were seen on your adoniminal , it was a full sweep.

“Be careful with her head,” you cried out in pain at the sudden movement. They shifted you back to the rock, you were still holding loosely to your brother’s hand.

“I am so sorry sweetheart,” your dad cried as he held your other hand. Kiri held Tuk as she looked around confused as to why everyone was crying. Lo’ak couldn’t even look at you, he stared off into the ocean.

“GREAT MOTHER PLEASE, OH GREAT MOTHER PLEASE,” your mother begged, for what you do not know. The sky was getting darker and you felt more heavy.

“I- I want to go home dad,” you sneered out in pain. You turned your head to the side and let out a cough filled with blood.

“I know baby, I know, we are going home, but you have to stay with us babygirl. Stay with us.” He wiped the blood away from your mouth as more tear began to fall from your eyes.

“Dad I am sorry-“ He quickly silenced you before you could finish apologizing.

“No, I am sorry baby. I am so sorry. If I could take back everything I would.” He promised with a sad smile. You were his baby. His little girl, how could he fail his one job. He was a father he was suppose to protect that is what gave it meaning, but right now he felt like that title should be ripped away from him. He lost his children. His reason to protect, how could he such a disappointment.

“Dad I-“ You never did finish your sentence that night. Your eyes rolled back and you let out your last breathe in vain. Goodbye world, you tried and that’s all that matters.

#avatar #sully family #neteyam #lo’ak #jake sully #major character death #sadnees #angst tag #neytiri #atwow tuk #kiri avatar

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maaarshieee · 1 year

Note

Is it possible could you write

Pantalone x reader

Where the reader is very calm and polite, but looses their cool one day and out of anger they punch the wall and hurt themselves. And blood is on their knuckles?

⎯⎯ ୨ Losing Cool ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Pantalone x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 0.9k words ┊ Hurt/comfort-ish *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

mayhaps projected in this... i pride myself into having good patience but when shit gets too tough i just,, 💥, ty for requesting this anon!! have a good day/night! i think this was kinda bad but i promise ill do better at other fics BYE DAHDSAHD

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, self inflicted injury (unintentional), blood

Blood dripped down your cracked knuckles as you stares down at the soldier before you. Face engulfed with unfamiliar frostiness, darkness overshadowed your features, only further accentuating the overwhelming rage swirling inside of you. Pulling away your first from the crater you've created, sparing a nonchalant glance at your bleeding wound before further instilling shock to the people present inside the room with the sharp words that pierce through the silence like a blade.

"Just how stupid can you be to fail such trivial tasks?" Spat by you with such a venomous tone, the words you spoke emphasizing your immense disappointment and rage. "Useless! All of you! I should just kill you where you stand!" The soldiers that knelt before you trembled, eyes darting towards the other Harbingers for help, but they merely ignored them, too amused, too entertained by your uncharacteristic lashing. They just had to report right before the meeting and worsen your already ruined mood.

Pantalone, for one, was concerned for you. He has never seen you so enraged before. It was as if all the frustration you'd bottled inside your heart finally exploded at this moment, and without a proper outlet, you'd ultimately hurt yourself by punching the wall. Pantalone had noticed that for the past few days, you'd grown quiet and stiff, a twitch on your brow here and there, but he never thought it meant anything else other than stress. For you've always handled situations better than anyone, ever so gentle towards the people working under you and keen on giving them a second chance. Other Harbingers often called you out for being too soft, but you were the complete opposite of their former image of you right at this moment.

Once you dismissed them, Pierro finally entered the room. All the Harbingers stood, waiting for Pierro to speak and commence today's meeting. Though Pantalone could give less a damn about the meeting, his eyes glued to your bruised, bleeding hand. You didn't give it much concern, but Pantalone has been itching to care for it, to clean the blood dripping down your hand and onto the table, to wrap it in bandages and kiss the aching pain away.

When your eyes met, he saw your idle anger quickly dissipate into nothing and turn into guilt, and when you clenched your hand into a fist, you winced. It was as if the pain finally processed to your brain and only now you're aware of what had happened, glancing at the crater you'd punched onto the wall. The fact that these meetings usually took hours didn't quell any of Pantalone's worries and by the time the meeting has ended, you could barely feel your hand through the tingling sensations, and the blood as been dried onto your skin.

Pantalone wiped off the blood that caked your knuckles and your fingers with a wet piece of cloth, paying no attention to how his gloves were beginning to soak despite you insisting that you could clean it yourself. "Nonsense," He huffed through his nose, brows creased ever so slightly as he began to patch up knuckles, relieved nothing was broken. "Am I not allowed to care for my darling?" You flushed at the pet name, rubbing the back of your neck as you shook your head.

"No, but you don't have to dirty your hands for me..." You tried once more, wriggling your hand away from his, but you only hissed at the pain that struck your knuckles, and Pantalone huffed at your stubbornness, finally finishing up patching your hand up. "There, avoid using this hand too much."

Slipping off his gloves, his hands reached up to your face and cupped your cheeks, letting you lean against his touch as he pulled you close. He pressed his forehead against yours, your uninjured hand resting on his hip as his fingers caressed your face, a small smile on his lips. "Next time, please don't bottle up your emotions for too long, or something like this will happen..." Feeling you nod against him, he continued, "At least let it be in a different way if you don't want to talk about it..."

You raised a brow at his suggestion, your hand reaching to his back, nails grazing up to his spine and playing at the ends of his hair, leaning back to press a kiss onto his cheek. "How so?"

At that, Pantalone smiled widely, pulling away from you and taking both your hands into his, "Let's go shopping." You could only roll your eyes at his words, suppressing back a smile. "That's just an excuse to spoil me, dear." But Pantalone didn't let up, a pout now protruding from his bottom lip.

"But it would help you forget your worries, even for a single moment." He pleaded, tilting his head to the side, his eyes glittering as he placed kisses on your knuckles. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you half-heartedly glared at Pantalone and his ways of persuading you, but you could only sigh and give in. "I suppose you're right..."

Pantalone visibly brightened and stood up, lacing his arm around yours as he walked you towards your shared private chambers to get you dressed, listing down multiple stores he's been dying to bring you to, and all the things he wanted to buy for you. With a smile on your face, you listened to him with a nod of your head, the ache of your injured hand long forgotten.

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#yaepublishinghouse #pantalone x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #:;marshie.writes #:;drabble #:;requested #:;pantalone

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skiesofrosie · 21 days

Text

Little Sunshine Fires: Chapter 2

Pairing: Benny DeMarco x OC [Marnie Cleven]

ch. before //ch. after

Synopsis: Marnie requests a transfer to the 100th Bomb Group to stay close to her boxed in, reserved pilot of a brother, Buck Cleven. It's the last thing she expects, when she starts to anticipate another man's return to safety from the skies, nearly just as much.

Warnings: historical inaccuracies + this is only based on the MOTA characters, and not the real life veterans!

Ps. the photos do not belong to me. :)

To write a love story in the middle of rapid conflict has always been complicated.

That’s just how the world works–trying to seek small bouts of happiness through torrential rains means sinking your boots deep into wet soil. But Benny is persistent, and he’s willing to climb through the muck because the reign of dawn has always been more than worth it. Daylight, for him, is a soothing balm even through the most turbulent of storms. Although, waking up to thoughts of a certain nurse tends to feel like daylight before he even pulls the curtains open.

He supposes he understands Marnie's qualms with the sun. But still, when this is all over, he’s determined to take her for a swing in his plane, and show her how beautiful the world is when you’re looking at it from the clouds. Perhaps, it may be an agenda more for him, than for her though. To fly with someone as gorgeous a soul as Marnie is as close to heaven as he will probably get, alive.

For now though, that’s thinking too far ahead. Benny realizes quite quickly that it’s near impossible to take a girl out on a date when you're dead stuck in a war.

⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆

He ran into her once at the theater. It seems the rest of the men had the same idea, finding his co-pilot Thayer and Lieutenant Curtis Biddick there as well, no doubt in need of a reprieve after the hell of a mission they had returned from. Five forts lost, more than twenty returning men injured, their bombing scrapped, and efforts wasted. The hospital lights didn’t dim for nearly two days, and though Benny was dying to burst through the doors to see if Marnie was okay, Buck said she’d yell in his face to scamper off before he could even say hello.

“One for the dramatics?” He had asked her, falling into the empty seat by her side. She chuckled then, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes, and he could clearly see the bags that dragged them down. But by God, in the lights of the film, she still glowed like daylight against clear water. “You could say that, but Buck’s the bigger drama queen between us two.” She cracks a teasing smile. “He just knows how to hide it better, yknow?” He didn’t know if he believed her, but she swatted at his shoulder when he had expressed the thought, so he guessed he better have.

They settled comfortably into silence then. The dark room was chilly, only lit with Bette Davis dancing about in colors of gray. Sounds of the soldiers wolf whistling, and chattering, and shushing those who were too rowdy set the tension in their shoulders loose. Benny saw the way the fingers on her right hand fiddled with each other, restless against the arm rest, and he was about to do something reckless, slip his hand into the shape of hers.

But he was so rudely cut off, by the blaring red light signaling a new mission.

⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆

He ran into her again a few days ago, while she searched for Buck in the mess hall at lunch. It was clear she was distressed, claiming she sought her brother to listen to her whine about Doc Stover’s never ending demands, and he decided there, and then, that to dissolve the weight of bricks on her back, he would whisk her away for a simple dinner (perhaps, a dinner date).

“With me? Make it a date?” She points to herself comically, and Benny lets a little smirk curve on his lips. “Yes, you. Dinner with me.” “With you?” “Yes, Christ. With me?” There was a tremble in his bones at that point, because maybe he was taking his chances too far. But, when she opened her mouth to speak–and he thought she'd throw a wrench into his resolve–she crumbled midway into laughter, eyes twinkling with mirth and a smile that made him warm.

“I’m just messin’,” she beamed, and relief fills his lungs, “I would love to have dinner with you, Benny. Tonight, at 5?” He nodded then, shrinking a little at the way Buck, who was seated a few tables away looked upon them in confusion, his utensils paused mid-air. Bucky turned around then, throwing Benny a smirk and a thumbs up before Buck smacked the back of his head. “At five. See ya, sweetheart.”

Come 1600, he was pleasantly surprised to find her knocking on his door an hour early. But as he took in her physical state, hair drooping from its messy bun, and blood stains on her white nurse uniform, he surmises that she was not there out of eagerness, and hides the wilt in his eyes when she informs him that she’ll have to cancel.

“One of the patients went into hysterics. Accidentally sliced one of my nurse’s hands in panic and left a pretty lookin’ gash. Doc Stover thinks it’d be best, that I stay for the night,” Marnie sighed, the guilt pooling in her sagged form. “I’m really sorry Benny.”

“Wait but,” he said, alarmed that she may be alone with in a hazardous situation, “will you be okay, alone? I could stay with you. That’s…it’s concerning, to say the least.”

“It’s all part of the job, I’ve been trained hard for shit like this,” she responded, letting a tired smile grace her lips. “Appreciate the thought though, but he’ll be a fine patient once he settles down.”

He nodded in understanding, but remained still at his door frame as if it’d keep her from turning away. Daylight, today, sent a trickle of sweat down his temples as if to mock the pinch of serenity he was declined of. But instead of turning away, she snatched the sun in her hands and sent heat straight through his blood and into his head when she stood on her tippy toes and planted a soft, sweet kiss on his cheeks. Her hands were gripping lightly at his shoulders, though if she were to let go, he might have been the one to topple over instead. “But I promise, I want that dinner with you.”

⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆

If they couldn’t meet in person, he would have to continue showing his affection through his actions.

It was routine for Benny, either on a Saturday or a Sunday, whichever he wasn’t bogged down on a mission with, to head out to the local florist. Ever since he knew of Marnie's gravitation towards peonies, he’s made a point to leave a new bundle on her desk as a way to say that he’s thinking of her. It’s gotten to the point where he has made friends with Grandma Daisy who runs the shops, a cheery old lady. He kisses the back of her hand in greeting each time he comes. After Benny’s first two visits, when the bell rings of his presence, she’d dash to the back room and return immediately with a bouquet of peonies (sometimes she’ll sneak in a couple extra than what he paid for).

And he starts leaving messages for Marnie on the pink-heart shaped card Grandma Daisy slips in for free. Sometimes it’d be something romantic, like “the morning sun is my favorite time of day, but the golden glow has got nothing on the way you shine.” Other times, he’d leave questions for her to ponder, even though he never expects an answer. Just yesterday, he had snuck in another bouquet on her desk in the hospital, before the night shift nurses clocked out before the sunrise, with a question written on the card. “When I take you for dinner, what would be your choice of food?”

He’s pleasantly surprised to return to his cot, worn out on a dreary Monday after a practice mission, to find a box with his name written widely across, sitting by the door. A box of lemon-drizzled vanilla cupcakes, and a small floral card with no name, but a little note. “Honestly, corn fritters and corn dogs, but perhaps that is not classy of me at all.”

He pays no mind to the gloomy clouds, because he feels like he’s got the wonders of the world sitting right here in his hands.

⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆

Crumple all fate in his grip; he will build a destiny for himself.

They are living on borrowed time, the numbers of the 100th Bomb Group dwindling with each mission they set off to in the day. And perhaps, this should have deterred him. Bucky would say, what is the point of growing seeds when you fly, knowing that the wheels of your plane may never touch the grass again. But that is not how Benny sees it. If anything, the fickleness of it all is the reason he should not hesitate.

So despite entering the pub with Buck, and Bucky, and Kidd and whoever else–he was barely paying attention, ever since Buck mentioned Marnie would be there–he beelines straight for her, seated on a wooden chair by the speckles of the lit fireplace. It seems she’s clocked him beforehand, greeting him as he approaches without even turning her head to meet his eyes, staring aimlessly into the fire. He wonders what constantly plagues her thoughts. Each time he runs into her, it seems he yanks her wandering mind back into her orbs.

“Thought you didn’t like the fire,” he states, and she finally turns to him. With a cute, confused frown, she replies, “when did I say I didn’t like fire?”

He chuckles, pointing to the fireplace, then up. “That big ball in the sky, if you haven’t noticed, is the fire that keeps this earth from turning into a shithole of poop.”

“It’s different,” she remarks as she scrunches her face. He reaches to pinch her nose, but she slaps his hand away, a growing smile betraying one of mock annoyance. “Seeking warmth on a cold, rainy night, then stepping out into glaring daylight.”

Mulling it over in his head, it’s impressive to Benny, the way her simple words are always doused in complex meaning, even when she’s not trying. He quite likes her mind, because it’s as beautiful as the outside. A little thought snaps into his near daze, and he scans the small pub, trying to see if there were other women around. Swiveling his head back to her, he notices the only chair in her periphery has been left unused.

“You’re alone?” He asks, moving to sit down, scuffing the chair forward against the wooden tiles to be closer to her side. “Didn’t come here with your friends?”

She nods, “I did, Shonda and Betsy. But they’re busy with some officers, right about there.”

He pans to where she points her finger, a blonde with short, tamed curls (Betsy, she tells him) and a long-haired brunette (Shonda, that’ll be), the girls talking chipperly to a couple officers by the bar that, to Benny’s dismay, were donning navy blue. A grimace pulls on his lips, and she laughs gingerly, knowing exactly why. The RAF officers never bode well with the Americans flooding in to fight on their behalf.

“Can’t complain though,” Marnie says, “they’re quite charming if you let them try, and they polish up real nice.” It may have been steam, rushing from his ears then, and all he wants to do is smack the smugness off her face, a delightful snicker bubbling from her throat in her easy dig to rile him up. He slips a cigarette out of his pocket, and in seeing him do so, she pulls a lighter from her own. Moving closer to Benny, she flickers a small flame against its bud as it sits between his mouth, and he nods his thanks. “Can I have one?”

“Nope,” he deadpans, sour towards her eye for navy-clad men. She pulls her head back slightly, a tiny pout on her lips. “Ah, ah, ah,” he mocks, pulling his hand back as she throws herself forward, trying to snatch precious cargo from the cardboard box. An idea springs into his mind, drawing a smirk of mischief to his lips. Benny holds the cigarette box further back, out of her reach, and Marnie, ever so the lioness prances even farther against his chair, eager for a puff of nicotine. “Benny–”

But her words die in her throat, eyes flickering up and down between Benny’s eyes and his lips, because oh my, she didn’t realize at all how close their faces were. And Benny, ever so the plotter, raises his brows in mock question, his own eyes trailing down to Marnie’s lips like he had his answer found.

“British men don’t knock into ya with their bike, and use repayment as an excuse to try and see your pretty face everyday, do they?” He teases, the smirk falling off his lips as heat sends her pupils dilating.

“It was my fault though, wasn’t it? If you’re asking for favors, I’d be happy to comply,” she says, and he can feel the flames burn through his lungs, and fume into his hands with the way they yearn to grab her waist. But he flares restraint against his muscles, because one, noisy Curtis Biddick stalks up to them with no shame. Benny can’t judge him though, considering how he was about to kiss his major’s little sister senseless in the middle of a very public pub.

“Damn Benny,” Curt gleams with a teasing lilt to his voice, and slides in between them like a wall to keep them separate, Bucky and Buck trailing closely behind. The latter stared intensely at his little sister, like a quiet reprimand, but she merely shrugs with a clandestine smile. “You stuck a hole in the wheel of your bike so you could trap her through your miserable fall in your big, cozy arms?”

Now that, sends a flush of embarrassment down his neck. He leans back in his chair flustered when his partner in crime simply cackles at his discomfort. The men start gathering around a long, wooden table a few meters away from their spot by the fireplace, but Marnie makes no point to move, so he doesn’t either. Besides, he sees these people everyday, toeing life and death, ‘til their head hits the pillow, should they be lucky. He doesn’t need their company day in, day out. Marnie waves at Betsy and Shonda, her friends (that Benny will forever remember were fraternizing with the enemy) sitting down to join the wolf pack of rowdy men.

“You babble at us for ditching our friends, Mar, and now you’re doing the same,” Betsy says, shaking her head in a joking manner, her voice traversing across the room. “Disappointed at your lack of loyalty.”

“And for a pilot no less,” Shonda adds, “didn’t you say they had their heads too far up their ass, and you weren’t about to be the one to pull ‘em out?” The boys, Bucky and Curt and Veal, play into Betsy and Shonda’s jabs, clawing at their hearts and groaning at her shots. Benny watches as Marnie simply rolls her eyes, clearly used to their form of teasing.

The chatter in the room resembles a fish market as everyone keeps yapping at their highest volume, causing Benny to flinch ever so slightly. It’s not that he can’t throw himself into a bustling bunch, but that is no delight in comparison to the quiet bliss between him and Marnie. Recalling Shonda’s words, he lets out a scoff, beckoning her attention (not that it ever diverted from his healthy, tan skin and cheeky, boyish smile).

“You don’t like the daylight, you don’t like flying, you’re afraid of heights, you don’t like pilots,” he lists, but his words are light, just teasing at her choices. “You think the RAF shits are charming, the next thing you’re gonna tell me is ya don’t know how to ride a bike.”

Her eyes flee to the ceiling, and she nods at nothing in particular. “Would you be adverse to knowing that I don’t know how to bike?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” he’s quick to clear up. “It’s just always been my favorite thing to do outside and…” He cuts himself off as realization strikes, and he watches her shrink meekly into her seat. “You actually don’t know how to ride a bike.”

“No,” she mumbles, feeling slightly embarrassed, like a child being graded by her teacher.

Confusion hits her mind as he immediately stands up, and for a second she thinks he’s going to stomp away, and for a fucking bike of all things, but he surprises her with an offer of his hand, and kiddish excitement in his deep, chocolate eyes. “I’ll teach you.”

⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆

Apparently the Clevens are not so capable of doing just anything under the sun, or in this case the moonlight. It’s ridiculously amusing to watch Marnie struggle to keep balance on his bicycle, having to catch herself from falling flat on her side by hastily kicking out her feet. Benny just snickers at her lack of cycling abilities, joking that she’s basically destitute. Of course, that earns a kick to his side that has him hunching over in mild pain. “Jesus woman, I was only kidding!”

“I’ve got two left feet but Benny,” she grumbled, clambering off the bike and shoving it into his hands, “I promise you I’m gonna master this thing so well, I’ll bet that I can beat you in a race.”

“Woah, woah, let unrealistic dreams be dreams” he says, pulling the bike by its handles as they stroll through the townhouses, and he swerves to dodge yet another hard punch to his arm. It is quiet in the village, a few families flicking their lights off to retreat to their beds. “So, I know a lot of things you don’t like, so what do you actually like? What brings a smile to Marianne Cleven’s face?”

A thought immediately springs in her mind, evidently, with the way her face blossoms into a wide grin. “Baking.” “Baking?” “Yes, cupcakes, chocolate chip cookies, pudding, you’d name it.”

“Huh,” he questions, recalling all the times the cooks would send looks of spite her way, and the box of cupcakes mysteriously left on his doorstep. “Is that why they’d catch you sometimes at fuckin’ 0300, like a ghost in the mess kitchen? ‘Cause you were baking?” She rejoices with a nod. Benny shakes his head in disbelief, but a fondness tugs at his lips. “Thank you, by the way, for the cupcakes. Your hands are gifted.”

“It’s the only thing that I can do, over and over again and never get tired of. My Ma…she was the best baker in town, and it was one thing we could do together where we didn’t even have to talk to bond and spend quality time,” she reminisces, “when I get outta this place and go back home, I’m gonna open my bakery and Buck’s pretty face is gonna be on the posters so I get all the customers, and it’s gonna be called Pearl’s Bakery–that’s my Ma’s name.”

He remembers Buck briefly mentioning their mother dying when they were only kids, so he tries not to poke too far, at least not right now.

It’s an endearing sight, the way her hand gestures flail wildly when she chatters about something that ignites a passion. In the silence that falls over them as they stroll through the homely countryside, Benny wonders if there’s anything other than flying that lights a flame in his soul. When she asks the question, he finds himself short of a proper answer.

“What do you wanna do when the war is over?” She asks him.

“To be honest, I have no idea,” he murmurs, brows furrowing as he contemplates his purpose. “I’ve always been a jack of all trades, master of none kinda guy. I could play sports like soccer and football well enough, but was never the best to be a captain. I got good grades in Math and English, but I’m not talented enough to be a mathematician or a writer. I can’t draw for shit, and I can’t sing. So, I don’t know.”

He wonders what he’s been doing with his 25 years of life. Besides flying, it feels like he has nothing to show for himself and the thought sours his mood. Before he enlisted, he had graduated with a business degree and started working at his father’s tailoring business. But if he’s being honest, trying to sell suits and dresses is most certainly not his main calling in life, though his father might have some choice words about that.

“You don’t have to know,” she empathized. “The war has taken away everything we’ve ever known, and we will not return as the same people to our homes. We will have to relearn what it means to live a fulfilling life, and in doing so, we will find out what we are made for.”

His steps progressively come to a halt as she speaks, and he revels in the comfort of her words, like the throw of a warm fuzzy blanket against his skin. Though she may not know how to ride a bike, each word that leaves her thoughts has always been indicative of a woman who has lived, someone who has survived through hardship. He thinks he could be happy, following the direction of her voice for the rest of his life. And just maybe, he could finish off his day by catching wafts of vanilla cupcakes when he picks her up from the bakery every evening. But once again, he’s reaching too far. Perhaps, a dinner first would do, but there’s no denying what already lies embedded in his thoughts, and solely from what he feels.

Stretching a leg to sit himself towards the back of the bicycle seat, balancing it to the right with his foot, he gestures at Marnie to settle right in front of him. “Um,” she hesitates, “will that be safe?”

“I don’t know,” he replies, an easy grin spreading on his lips, “but it’ll be fun.” She rolls her eyes but does not hide her smile, agreeing after a few seconds to take the front half of the seat.

“Here,” he whispers in her ear, moving against her figure to offer some steadiness. “I got you.”

When she sits down, both her legs resting on the left of the bike, he kicks his feet up to the pedals, biting back a laugh as he hears her squeak. It’s really fucking hard to cycle when he's got the weight of two people–and Marnie’s back leaning against his chest, her hair brushing against his lips, and her soft fingers slipping over his on the handle–but he’s taking in the way she lets out chesty fits of laughter through the breeze, and he doesn’t think he’s felt anything more glorious than this.

He cycles them away from the townhouses, and into narrow roads masked by thick trees and hearty bushes. They are mostly shortcuts winding back from the pub to the base. Determination keeps him pedaling despite the way he begins to wheeze through his chest after five minutes. They stop short of the gates, about a hundred meters away, when she begins caressing the back of his hands with her thumb, turning her lips to his ears to tell him to slow down if he’s tired. And he does, because he’s not about to fall into another crash and send both him, and Marnie flat on the ground.

When he stops to catch himself, his lungs are knocked out of his chest completely when she turns her body to face him, instead of hopping off. “That was good,” she says in a hushed tone, as if the swaying trees are listening in on this moment. “That really was fun,” she mutters, even quieter than before, the sound of their combined breathing overwhelming the softness in her tone.

At a loss of what to say, feeling the nerves take over his working mind, he decides to just not think. Benny inches his face closer to Marnie as she does the same, and stops just before her lips, feeling the residue of lipgloss against his own. He looks at her fervently, silently asking for confirmation. At her slight nod, he lets his eyes close and presses his lips against hers, moving slowly and languidly, feeling the way she morphs into him as her hands slide up his neck and to his jaw. He moves one of his hands off the handles, and tangles it in her loose hair, trying to get closer, kissing her like a drowned man clutching at straws to seek air.

But that’s not even the best part. Nothing, to Benny, competes with the astounded look on her face as she lets go for a brief moment. She leans her forehead against his and lightly giggles as he breaks out into his own, goofy grin, with matching dusts of red spreading across their cheeks.

He may be lying about the bike ride–this may be the most glorious thing he’s ever felt instead.

a/n: we will delve more into marnie and buck's upbringing and relationship, soon. :) as always, eternally grateful if you have made it this far.

#masters of the air #mota #benny demarco #benny demarco x oc #bernard demarco #benny x marnie <3 #mota oc #marnie cleven #late night post #buck cleven

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