#you have no idea how much pain posting this was

[nicksbestie]

Migraines - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Matt struggles with chronic migraines, and some days there isn't much that you can do, but that never means you don't try,

Warnings : mentions of vomiting and nausea, a small bit of crying

Word Count : 1313

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i got inspo from this photo of matt <3

Living an entire two decades of life with chronic migraines was an absolutely miserable thing.

Matt was nearing his twenty-first birthday, and he was desperate to find something in his life that would help with these migraines. He had gone through prescription after prescription, doctor appointment after doctor appointment, specialist after specialist, and nothing had helped the splitting pain. He had a migraine tracker on his phone so that he could tell the percentage of how often he had migraines, and it was well over sixty percent of every month. It was quite depressing to look at, and even more depressing to live. It really affected Matt’s happiness and day to day life. 

All of their YouTube videos were filmed on Matt’s good days. They would change outfits so that they could film five to six videos in one day, gathering a lot of topics so that they would have tons to post when it came time to put them all up. Both of his brothers were incredibly caring and didn’t mind the way that they had to do things, and both wanted to do everything possible to make it easier for their middle sibling. They rode with Matt in an Uber every time his migraine was too bad for him to drive, so that he wouldn’t have to be alone, especially at a doctor’s office, a place he was already generally hesitant to be at. They truly were always by his side, arguing with doctors that told him it was anxiety based, or that he was exaggerating, when he didn’t have the energy to argue for himself.

Today was a bad day for him. Chris and Nick had left before Matt had woken up, so they had no idea that he was struggling, because the light from his phone, even at the lowest setting, wasn’t low enough to not send stabbing pains through his head, so he hadn’t texted. He hadn’t had the energy to call and speak to them either. All he had done was gotten up and shut the blinds, covering them up with blackout screens that he had bought a couple years back, because he needed all of the light out. They worked incredibly well, and he had cut off the dim lighting in his room that he’d slept with, needing complete darkness.

He had no idea how long he had laid there, he just knew he was in pain. Unbeknownst to him, when you noticed that he didn’t reply to your text, you were immediately concerned, and already on your way over. You’d seen that he’d read it, so you knew he was awake, and he hadn’t replied. He never left you on read, unless he couldn’t bear to look at his phone screen any longer, which meant he had a terrible migraine. You’d wasted no time getting ready, and due to the fact that Matt didn’t wake up until almost two in the afternoon, you didn’t get over there until almost four. You had your own key, both because of instances like these, and because of the fact that you had been together for almost two years now. Letting yourself in, you texted Chris and Nick, telling them that you were there as well.

You wasted no time in going upstairs, gently opening Matt’s door, and immediately closing it behind you, because while the light in the hallway wasn’t on, the daylight would filter in, and you knew it would aggravate his head. Seeing him face down on the bed, under covers and pillows, you gently whispered your greeting, telling him so he wouldn’t freak out, though you doubted he had the energy to freak out on you. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, rubbing his back and laying down next to him. He curled into your chest, and you could see the remnants of tear tracks on his face. You laid a kiss to his forehead, gently running your hand over it and through his hair. Your hands were a cooler temperature, and you could tell that it felt good and soothed his pain for a few seconds. You laid a palm on his forehead, wanting to help him feel better any way that you could. 

You laid with him for about an hour, helping hold the trash can at the side of his bed when the pain got to be so bad that it caused him to throw up, helping wipe his face off and get him laid back down, before realizing he hadn’t eaten anything all day, so it probably wouldn’t get much better. You laid there for a little while longer, thinking about what to do to help him, when you remembered a trick that had helped you when you had a terrible migraine one day. You softly untangled yourself from him, whispering that he could stay right there and you would be right back.

You went into the bathroom, turning a small, very dim, light on in the corner so you could see what was going on around you. You began running a warm bath, letting it run while you went to get Matt a small snack. You set it down on the edge of the bathtub, on the side touching the wall, and went to go get your boyfriend. You picked out some clean clothes for him, grabbed him the water bottle from his nightstand as well, and led him to the bathroom. He knew where it was, of course, but the thought of opening his eyes for the chance of any light just made the pain intensify, so he trusted you to guide him.

By this point, the tub was about three quarters of the way full, and you helped him get in. You knew he hadn’t showered that day, and the warm water on your legs and feet helped with your migraines, so you hoped it would help him as well. Judging by the way his face began to relax once he was in the tub, his back against your chest, you were glad it took away a little bit of his pain. You kept the temperature of the bathroom cooler so that he wouldn’t overheat, but not enough for him to get cold. His eyes stayed closed, but they were a calm closed, not a scrunched, wincing in pain, closed. He didn’t speak much, but he took the water and food that he was offered, and a gentle smile crossed his face the longer he sat in the tub.

The longer you stayed there with him, gently running your hands through his hair, the more his breathing evened out, and the deeper it got, and eventually, you realized he had fallen asleep. He had been so tired from being in pain, even though he had only been up for about four hours, that when the pain had lessened dramatically, his body was so exhausted that he just fell asleep in comfortable arms. You stayed there with him until the water went cold, and even longer after that, because you couldn’t bear to disturb him. After about half an hour, you softly shook him awake, gently helping him stand. By this point, you had both basically air dried, and Matt only pulled on boxers and loose shorts to sleep in. You tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers as well, going back to bed with him. 

As soon as he hit the bed, he was about to fall asleep again, and you pulled him back into your arms. You never minded taking care of him, knowing that he loved you more than words could say, and as he whispered a soft “I love you” into your chest, you knew you could do this for him for the rest of your life, and you could die happy.

“I love you more.”

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[adascore]

Hello! Not sure if you’re taking requests but would you consider doing an addition to TSS where young!arsenal reader was starting before Beth and Viv came back and has been benched majority of the time since (Kyra core☹️). Maybe during like the west ham game was one of the subs thrown on halfway through and after the loss made a snarky comment about “being thrown on to unfuck everything” type of thing to another teammate and Viv/beth overhear and think she’s talking about them (maybe they’re already a little insecure about losing such an “easy” game, self doubt post ACL) and things are super frosty and weird at home until one of them snaps and makes a comment about how they still wouldn’t have won even if R started. Hurt/comfort angst but with a happy ending!! Not sure if any of that strikes your fancy but I had the thought and you’re so talented:) no worries if not!!!

TO JUMP THE GUN(NERS)

pairings: arsenal x teen!reader / meadema x teen!reader / kyra cooney-cross x arsenal!reader

warnings: the west-ham match. swearing. angst. awkwardness.

author’s note: OMG LOVE THIS IDEA ! like this was right up my alley I felt like 😭 thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story!

masterlist

February 4, 2024 - Essex, England

It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.

The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.

She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.

Their injuries had changed everything.

Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.

She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.

However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.

It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.

In other words, she was back to step 1.

That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.

In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.

Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.

The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.

Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.

As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.

The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.

''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''

''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.

''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''

Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.

''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.

As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.

''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.

Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.

They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.

The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.

Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.

''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.

Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''

The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.

As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.

"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.

Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.

"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.

"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.

As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.

The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.

''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.

Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.

She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.

''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.

They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.

''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.

''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.

"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.

They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.

''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.

Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''

The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''

Katie was not right.

As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.

Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.

The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.

Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.

A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.

Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?

She had absolutely no clue.

However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.

Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.

Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?

Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.

Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.

The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.

The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.

Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.

"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”

Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''

But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.

Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.

The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.

''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.

''Hey, you're home?''

''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''

There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''

''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.

''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''

There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''

Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.

''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.

''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.

''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''

Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”

''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''

''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.

Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.

''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.

''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''

Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.

The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.

Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''

Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.

The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.

A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.

''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.

Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.

She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.

She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.

Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.

For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.

As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.

''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.

Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.

''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.

Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.

But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.

''Beth, I wasn't-''

''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.

Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.

''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.

''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.

Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''

The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.

The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''

Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.

''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.

''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.

The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.

''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.

''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.

The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.

''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.

Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.

''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.

The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''

''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.

''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.

The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.

Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.

Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''

''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.

''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.

Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.

''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.

''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.

''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.

The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''

She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.

The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.

''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.

requests are always welcome!

[aliaology]

WANT ME DEAD

summary: loving and being loved by jack hughes was supposed to feel like a breath of fresh air— but the air was quickly stripped from your lungs when you realized it was never real

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, one sided love, bets, death

uhm heavily UNEDITED LOLL she kinda sucks but

you knew jack was the one for you the moment he came up to you after one of his games just to apologize for someone in the crowd accidentally pouring their beer on you— someone who he had no idea existed.

you knew jack was the one for you when he would make an effort to call you every night, always waiting for you to answer before saying, “hey, pretty girl.”

you knew jack was the one for you when he came to your house the night after your brother got into a car crash. he held you tightly— whispered sweet nothings into your ear as his hold never loosened.

you knew jack was the one for you the moment ‘i love you’ slipped through his lips; like little secrets only he wanted you to know.

but, your entire relationship wasn’t private— no it was entirely public. not public in you posting each other, but public in him telling every little detail to his best friends: trevor and cole.

you realized jack was a shitty man the day you overheard him on the phone. his voice; the one you grew to love, was speaking to trevor.

you realized jack was a cruel man the day you heard him admit out loud to his mother how this was all fake. you realized his mother was an admiring woman the moment she started to yell at him. you realized jack would never be a good person the moment he lied to you.

“was any of it real to you?” you whispered as you looked at his back. you watched him tense up before turning to you.

“what—what do you mean?” he was acting oblivious— sinking into it.

“how much of our relationship was fake to you, jack?” you spoke, your eyes held pain in them as you teared up.

“where is this coming from, baby?” he asked.

you let out a scoff mixed with a choked sob. “why are you still performing in front of me? im not stupid jack, ive heard you! you called me stupid for believing this. you just told your mom it was just because you wanted money.”

“baby..” jack spoke lowly. his eyes held guilt, anger.

“were you sent by someone? someone who wanted me dead? because you are fucking killing me, jack. ive been back and forth with myself, trying to convince my head that you were lying; or even just joking. ive tried for defending you against my head for so fucking long, jack.”

you watched as ellen stood there; clearly torn apart by the entire thing. of course she loves her son, but he was ruining you.

“you knew i loved you— you knew that and you still did this? you couldn’t have a fucking heart and just reject me?” you were desperate— desperate for his love, even after this.

“i didnt want to hurt you..” he trailed off.

you let out another scoff. “good fucking riddance”

you had tears running down your cheeks. you turned around, trying to not let him see you cry. you felt his hand touch your shoulder— which you quickly shrugged it away.

“dont you dare— you have no right.. no right to touch me right now.” you were a mess— a full on mess. “you— i let you see all of me, all of it.” you brokenly whispered.

“i let you in— you came to my brothers funeral for fucks sake, jack! i cried on your shoulder— you told me, you said so many things.” you cried out.

jack watched you break down, his brows furrowed as guilt washed over him.

“i took you to my moms grave.” you whimpered out, your lip quivering as you shakily spoke.

ellen came over, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. “come on sweetie, lets get you outside.” she whispered.

you sobbed into your hands as she began to lead you outside. “mom—“ jack tried to speak but was immediately cut off by the look she gave him.

that night, you declared ellen hughes as your savior. that night, you declared jack hughes as the shittiest man to exist. the smallest man who ever lived.

i need to make a new taglist bc i forgot everyone and it was so messy last time 😭😭 lmk if u want tags from now on babes!!

[killerpancakeburger]

Another Headache

SUMMARY: You get another one of your chronic headaches, and the meds don't don't work. Soap's by your side though.

PAIRING: Soap x F!Reader (Soap calls Reader "pretty girl" once, that's the only mark of gender)

TAGS: Hurt/Comfort, fluff, suggestive at the end, Soft!Soap, Established relationship, Civilian!Reader, Reader works as Price's assistant.

WARNINGS: The suggestiveness at the end, mention of chronic pain.

WORDS COUNT: 1.8k

A/N: Lots of Soaps I like in there... pouting Soap, drawing Soap, needy Soap, Human calculator Soap (because of that one post that I KNOW I REBLOGGED BUT CANT FIND!! CURSE U TUMBLR!)

“1245.87… minus 56.43… divided by 98.62….” you mumble out loud to yourself, painstakingly inputting each digit into your calculator.

“12.06,” pipes up Soap without missing a beat, not looking up from his sketchbook where he's drawing.

You look up from the device and throw him a mildly annoyed glare, assuming he concocted a random number to confuse you. It's the first explanation that comes to your mind, the most logical one, even though it would be out of character for Johnny to make your work harder, even as a joke. 

“Very funny.”

Then you press the result touch and your eyes widen as the machine provides the exact same answer.

“How in the hell…?”

You look at your boyfriend again, irritation gone out the window, replaced by amazement and a dash of admiration.

“Do you have a calculator for brain or something?”

“S'basic stuffs for sniping and demolition works.” 

The explanation is way too abrupt for anyone who knows how much Johnny enjoys his job, rambling, and rambling about his job. You raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Can you develop?”

An amused smirk stretches his lips as he still persists in not looking at you.

“Bonnie, ye need tae focus oan yer work, or ye'll git us in trouble.”

You groan in protest. Being lectured about trouble by Soap “Troublemaker” Mactavish out of all people, you couldn’t make it up. That doesn't make him less right unfortunately. 

Your supervisor, John Price, only allowed his Sergeant to hang out in your office during his free time on the express condition that it would not impact your tasks. You initially couldn’t imagine that blue-eyed menace sitting still for hours only for your sake; to do your own thing in your own side of the room in silence, without any physical contact, nor any other sign of acknowledgement? That was Ghost's idea of a good time, but Soap's idea of torture.

However, it turned out you underestimated his willpower, and his determination to take advantage of every moment that could be shared with you. The intimate knowledge that he was holding back this whole time, and that the minute the clock would strike the end of your workday, he would be all over you like usual, warmed your heart and sent pleasing tingles everywhere in your body.

Sympathetic to your plight, Johnny adds with indulgence and cheekiness in his tone: 

“Ah ken how much ye like mah voice, but we'll make up fur lost time after.”

You roll your eyes at the suggestive taunt, still recognizing the comment for what it is - a consolation to compensate for his refusal to extend earlier. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting about how distracting he's actually being even when drawing in silence, his biceps bulging with his posture, and the mix of concentration and serenity on his face strangely captivating. 

The expression he wears when sketching is one you're particularly fond of. It reveals a different kind of intensity than the one he usually displays, when eager for battle or indignant in front of injustice. It is one not many are privy to, since he tends to favor the solitude of his bedroom to scribble, making this scene all the more special and giving it an intimate tone that's enough to make your heart race.

A loving smile on your face, you throw yourself into your work.

You can feel it coming from miles away.

That accursed headache. Pushing behind your forehead, between your eyebrows and sneaking behind your temples.

Its reasons could very well be everything or nothing; the mix of cold weather and your own tiredness, the acute light from the winter sun blinding your eyes in the absence of sunglasses, the long hours spent in front of a screen.

It is light yet harsh all at once. Muffled pain always felt worse than a sharp one. Yet you know from experience it is only going to hurt more from here on.

Gritting your teeth in a grimace of discomfort, you press your hand against your forehead. The coolness of your fingers provides a respite, albeit a short-term one.

Is there even any painkillers left in your bag? You can’t remember the state of your stock-

A familiar box is suddenly moved in your line of sight. Your usual brand of aspirin.

You look up to see Soap staring at you expectingly. You take the medecine with a grateful smile.

“You really are full of surprises today!”

He pouts as he hands you your water bottle.

“Wi’ how often ye git those bloody things, a'd have tae be a bloody eejit for nae knowing how tae deal with ‘em.”

He sounds like your chronic migraines offended him, personally, and it's both adorable and hilarious.

“That's still very sweet,” you insist after swallowing the treatment.

He brings a lock of hair behind your ear before tenderly kissing your forehead.

“That's me, “Sweet Soap” Mactavish.”

That drags a giggle out of you.

An hour later, as the meds miserably failed, you’re not laughing at all anymore.

At least your work is done for the day, granting you the luxury to suffer on the rec room's couch. Laying on your back, head on the armrest, you’re pressing the heels of your hands into your closed eyelids while groaning in agony. Any bright light or screen increases the pain, so keeping your eyes closed is the only protection conceivable.

Seated right by you, your legs laying over his lap, Soap squeezes your tigh in support, itching to bring you relief but unsure how.

“What can I do?”

You remove your hands from your face to peek at him. If the ache behind your temples wasn’t occupying all space in your thoughts, you would have fussed over his chagrined expression that wasn’t without reminding you of a worried puppy. He was torn between concern for you and frustration of not being able to do anything. Johnny absolutely hated not being capable of remedying a problem. It made you want to cover his face in kisses, not only to placate his frustration, but also because you were filled with cute aggression.

“Well, I have this theory that if someone hit me really hard in the head with a baseball bat, it would help…”

“How the bloody ‘ell would it help!?”

“The pain from the blow would replace the headache.”

“How does replacing pain with pain helps…?”

“I prefer the acute pain of a strike than the dull one of a headache. It's way more bearable.”

“M not hitting you with a baseball bat,” he exclaimed, clearly convinced that the pain had made you go insane.

“I'll just ask Simon instead.”

At this point, you’re insisting more to rile him up rather than out of seriousness.

“Nae yer not,” he retorts vehemently, voice bordering on a growl.

You're about to laugh when he suddenly gets up, still taking care to not send your legs flying off the sofa. Worried that you managed to actually piss him off, you half pick yourself up, raising on your forearms, but he exits the room before you can catch his expression, ordering you to not go anywhere. Not like you were planning to anyway.

You flop back on the couch, closing your eyes and massaging your temples. A moment later, deliciously cold fingers rest on your forehead. You hum in appreciation.

“Better?”

“I love you,” you declare boldly.

The husky laughter Soap emits in response is almost as soothing as his touch.

You suddenly open your eyes as a realization dawns on you.

“Johnny, why are your hands fucking freezing?”

“Put ‘em under cold water,” he retorts casually, like it was evident.

You sigh, closing your eyelids, endeared by his behavior but also a bit fed up.

“You're crazy.”

He chuckles again.

“Crazy in love maybe.”

You don't need to look at him to know the smug smirk he's displaying with that comment.

“Wipe that goofy smile off your face, Mactavish.”

“Make me.”

You playfully slap whatever part of his body is nearby, then sigh once more.

“It's only a temporary solution, though. Unless you intend to spend all night turning your hands into ice cubes.”

“Ah could try-”

“Johnny, no.”

“Johnny, yes.”

“Don't be silly.”

“Will have tae be, unless ye've got a better option.”

“Laying in the dark with a wet cloth could help… or at least it's supposed to.”

This is how you ended up in Soap's bedroom with the lights off, both of you laying on his bed, you nuzzled on his torso with his arm around your waist, a washcloth soaked with freezing water on your forehead.

“Is it working?” he asks, barely a few minutes after settling down.

You cannot contain a smile at the impatience in his voice.

“More or less. But what sucks the most with this method is.. “

“Aye?”

“I'm so freaking bored. Cannot read, cannot use my phone, cannot fall asleep either. And with no distraction, I cannot focus on anything but the pain.”

“Ah could distract ye... If ye wanted.” he immediately suggests.

“What are you thinking of, pretty boy? Surely nothing… inappropriate.’

Despite your playful words, your fingers start idly running down his chest, and the shiver that travels his skin in response doesn't leave you indifferent. You hear him suck in a breath, and he grasps your wandering hand only to press it flat against his pectoral, even raising his breast to deepen the contact. Meanwhile the hand holding you tightens its grip on your flesh before traveling lower to grab your ass. 

“Now that yer mentioning it, ah read online that it could help wi’ headaches…”

“That what could help, Johnny?”

“An orgasm, bonnie,” he rasps.

You let out an amused sigh at the bold statement, trying to hide how much effect the rasp of his voice has on you.

“Hear me oot-” he pleads, apparently worried that you’re taking him for a perverted loser obsessed with his own pleasure over your comfort. “A'm not bullshitting ye-”

“I know, baby,” you appease him. “I know about the orgasm being a thing.”

“Ye know?... wait, ye knew this whole time? Why didn’t ye say anythin’?”

“Let's just say I'm skeptical of that method.”

“Did ye already try it?”

“Nope. But I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Then let me make ye a believer, pretty girl. Please? Pretty please? Will make ye feel so, so good, promise. Lemme take away yer pain, hen.”

He punctuates his begging by burning kisses, on your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck. His fingers sneak under your shirt, tickling your waist. The neediness in his voice and his touch makes you whine his name helplessly.

“Johnny…”

He echoes your whimper with a moan of your name.

“Alright, alright,” you capitulate. “For the sake of experimentation.”

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

Hello! I'm back with another chapter of my Feyd-Rautha/Reader arranged marriage series.

AO3 link here for full fic: And I Don't Want Your Heart - Chapter 5 - ooihcnoiwlerh - Dune (2021) [Archive of Our Own]

Side post that has some of my headcanons for how I interpret Feyd-Rautha's own relationship to his sexuality: Hello, Friend - So I've been working on a Feyd-Rautha/Reader... (tumblr.com)

This fic and this chapter are 18+ up only. Tags, content warning, and full chapter below the cut

Tags/CW list: rape/noncon; graphic depictions of violence; dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced pregnancy; nature versus nurture; implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced sexual assault; implied/referenced incest; first time; rough sex; oral sex; vaginal sex; vaginal fingering; blood kink; pain kink; sadomasochism; period sex; problematic smut; inappropriate misuse of BDSM; slow burn emotionally but the exact opposite of a slow burn phyiscally

CHAPTER FOUR: A BLOODY GASH

You're fertile.  You’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise.  This union is contingent on giving him children–at least one son, and as many attempts as necessary to get there ( and you desperately hope that you’ll only need that first one.  You don’t want to raise a daughter in this place, amongst these people .)

So you’re horrified when you wake up the following morning to blood smeared between your legs, staining your chemise that rode up to your hips when you were sleeping, and leaving a smear on the sheets below when you move.

No.  No.  You pull up the hem of your chemise and stare at your inner thighs as if just looking will change the outcome.  Feyd-Rautha came inside of you four times in two days for nothing .  He’ll be furious.  He’ll question your very biology.  He’ll have you examined as thoroughly and cruelly as possible.

You scramble, trying to cover yourself, wondering what you can even do next when Idrisa comes in with fresh water and coffee.

To her credit, she doesn't drop the tray when her eye line goes directly to your bleeding crotch for the few seconds it’s still visible.

“I knew my time for it was coming up, I just didn't think it would,” you say to yourself as much as her and come to meet her gaze.

She glances back down out of respect, but the awkward tension hangs between the two of you for a moment.

“Do you…” you start, embarrassment flushing your face and neck, “do you have anything for it?”  You have no idea how menstrual care even works on Geidi Prime.  You’d just assumed that it wouldn’t be an issue for another ten months.

She composes herself again immediately.  “Why yes, of course, Na-Baroness.  I apologize for my negligence.”  Before you can tell her there's nothing to apologize for, she adds, “I'll help you get cleaned up first.”

“That’s alright, I can do it,” you tell her as you wonder for a moment who she served before that she’d assume you want her to clean between your legs when you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

She inclines her head further.  “Thank you, Na-Baroness.  I’ll be back in just a moment.”  

As soon as she’s out the door you’re up and walking briskly to the bathroom. 

You’ll need to have the sheets changed.

It’s only been two days, you think, washing between your legs.  This doesn’t mean anything bad .  When he asks for you, you can just explain the situation and try again in a few days.  Until then…until then…   For a moment you draw a blank, before remembering a conversation you had a few years ago with a slightly older friend when you asked her if husbands still desired their wives when their wives were bleeding.

“ They honestly just want something warm, soft, and wet to bury themselves in, ” she’d told you matter-of-factly.  “ So most men just use their wife’s mouths .”

“ What do you mean? ” you’d asked, fairly certain you had an idea what she was talking about but still more willing to briefly embarrass yourself by asking than remain ignorant.

“ You know what goes on between a man’s legs, right? ” she’d asked in turn.

“ Of course ,” you’d said, a little offended that she’d think you so naive. 

“ When you’re bleeding and he still wants you to please him, put your mouth there instead, ” she’d told you.  “ Like he’s burying himself inside your mouth instead of your canal.  You can’t make babies that way, of course, but they often don’t care about that .   You can’t really make babies during your monthly courses anyway. ”

You wonder how she reacted when she found out who you’d be marrying.  You never got the chance to ask and assume, like many young women and their parents, that she was relieved that she wasn’t the one hand-picked for him. 

You also haven’t done that to him yet, nor any other man, for that matter, and you’re sure your lack of skill will show.  How are you meant to take the entire thing in your mouth when you can barely fit it where it’s meant to go?  What are you supposed to do with your teeth?  It also just seems somehow more daunting and personal than just having inside of you in the traditional manner.  

He’ll be aggressive with it, like he is in everything else. 

You can’t stop thinking about it as you brush your teeth and hair and try to ignore the discomfort in your lower belly before you hear a click and the door to your quarters opening.

Idrisa’s back with a basket made of some kind of black synthetic material; it’s covered to protect its contents from passing view.  You could kiss her for that, you think, and she starts unpacking.

She pulls out what look like thick handkerchiefs, going to your bathroom to stack them neatly on the countertop.  She also hands you a canister that you open to find a handful of circular tablets.

“They’re not as strong as what I left for your wedding night,” she says, “and they won’t put you to sleep, but they should suffice if you need them.”

You’d chalked up your cramps to nerves but now that you have your answer the symptoms couldn’t have been more obvious.  “Thank you, I think I will,” you tell her as you think about how you’ll likely be expected to join your new family, if one could call them that, for breakfast again.  The thought makes you want to crawl back under the covers.

“Can you also please tell Feyd-Rautha that I apologize for missing breakfast but that I'm feeling unwell this morning and wouldn't want to be poor company in my condition?” you ask.

Idrisa hesitates, nervous.  You realize that she's thinking, You know that your husband finds me far more disposable than he finds you, right?  He could easily kill and replace me and no one would care.  You also realize that she can’t and won’t say no to you.  But just that look reminds you that as frightening as this fortress is to you, it’s much worse for her.  You haven’t seen Feyd-Rautha kill outside of the arena yet, but you also barely know him; killing people who displease him over minor inconveniences, especially if they’re low-born and low-ranking, could be a common occurrence for him.  The Harkonnens didn’t earn their reputation for nothing.

“Unless you think they won't notice if I’m even there,” you add, thinking.  The Baron couldn't care less if he never has a conversation with you again, and outside of the marriage bed, Feyd-Rautha doesn't appear to have any real plans for you.  “I could just…stay here and if Feyd-Rautha has any questions he can ask them.”

Idrisa’s shoulders had been locked and tense but appear to relax just a little at your words.  “I can make a plate for you and bring it back here,” she says, already knowing your preference.  Given Geidi Prime’s incredible wealth and lack of natural resources other than fuels and metals there are imported fruits that you’d never had before coming here that you’re certain you’ll never get sick of.

“Sounds perfect, thank you,” you tell her, and take advantage of the new medication when she leaves.

When she returns with another tray for you, she’s accompanied by two other girls holding a fresh arrangement of sheets; the hems and necklines of their garb are cut a little different from hers and they look younger, perhaps the same age as your little sister.  You wonder if the difference in the way they’re dressed suggests rank?  They keep their heads down and don’t acknowledge you other than a silent curtsy before stripping your old sheets and setting down a new spread.  You look at them for a moment, wondering if it’s at the Baron’s insistence that no staff ever look a Harkonnen royal in the eye or if this rule’s been going on for generations when Idrisa snaps you out of your thoughts.

“I have a tea prepared for you as well, Na-Baroness,” she says, gesturing towards the tray that she’s set on your end-table and removing the cloche covering your plate.  “It’s not medicine strictly speaking but it has soothing properties.”

You turn and look at her.  She doesn’t look much older than you, but the same can be said of most of the female slaves.  Are they banished to where they won’t be easily seen when they reach a certain age?  What’s the life expectancy?  It feels more than a little insensitive to ask right now, so you just let them work as you take a seat at your end-table and take a sip of your tea.

After breakfast is over and you’ve found a comfortable position sitting up in bed, propped up by the pillows and headboards, you read a bit more on the Harkonnen lineage.  The more you read, the more you understand why Father always insisted that Geidi Prime is no place for a woman.  Women in high places, you find, have in history been assassinated more often than the men, or kidnapped to use as collateral and tortured.  You wonder if that’s why you saw so few at the wedding and reception, why they seemed so hidden out of view even while accompanying their high-ranking husbands.

You’re reasonably certain that your new husband’s concerned enough with his image as heir to the Harkonnen throne not to tarnish the alliance your marriage has created, that even if he doesn’t really know you and may never love you–you’re reasonably certain that he’s incapable of feeling such an emotion–he’ll still make sure to protect what he sees as his.  His uncle will likely be another story.  

The door opens unannounced and you look up, expecting Idrisa only to find Feyd-Rautha letting himself in without a word and closing the door behind him.  He doesn’t speak at first, but everything in his demeanor tells you that he did in fact notice your absence and wants an explanation.

You compose yourself.  There’s no need to panic.  “Good afternoon, husband.  To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, tone as light and cool as the weather would be on your home planet right now. 

He leans against the door as he folds his arms across his chest and looks you over.  “I missed you at breakfast,” he says.

“Yes, my apologies.  I’m not feeling well,” you tell him.  

He clearly doesn’t believe you.  You don’t seem feverish , he seems to think with his unimpressed gaze.  You seem fine .  “Still getting adjusted to the atmosphere on Geidi Prime?” he asks, and for a foolish moment you hope that he’s giving you an excuse.  Maybe he thinks you’re avoiding him because of last night, and you’re content to let him think that.

“Yes, husband,” you tell him.  

“That’s a shame,” he says, crossing over to your bed and sitting at the edge of it.  “It occurred to me last night that whoever taught you close-range maneuvers didn’t do their job right.  You should’ve been able to evade me.”

You wrinkle your brow and don’t have it in you to hide your insulted glare; your House’s military is considered a force to be reckoned with and a slight against your training is a slight against your House and your father himself.  “Did you want me to evade you?” you ask.

He seems amused by your sudden sharpness, and you realize that he’d wanted to hit a nerve.  He knew what he was implying and got the precise reaction he’d been hoping for.  “That’s not the point, wife.  You said yourself that you were out of practice and as soon as you’re feeling better I intend to rectify that.  Your cute little boot-dagger won’t serve you any good if you can’t correctly use it.”  

He places his hand on your leg, trailing it along your thigh and stopping just shy of your apex, his thumb brushing against it through the fabric of your skirt.  You give a sharp inhale that makes him smile.  You start to close your legs but his hand, now cupping your inner thigh, holds one open enough for him to continue to fondle as he pleases.

His hand stays there for a moment, stays over the light material of your skirt even as you're sure the soft flesh of your inner thigh heats his palm, as flushed as you feel under his touch.  He leans in, inhales as he leans over you and sniffs your hair.  It’s not even the first time he’s done it.  You wonder if he finds your hair to be a sort of forbidden fruit; something he can’t say he likes because to do so would disrespect Harkonnen hairlessness, but still something he finds fascinating or even enviable.  You’re not sure yet whether his lack of it is down to genetics or grooming but you assume the former, if it affects everyone including those who wouldn’t have such prime access to constant shaving.

But then he fully brings his hand between your legs, fingertips rubbing up against you and you flinch.  

Now?  Is he going to try and fuck me right here and now?   You shift, trying to hide what you’re sure is a look of panic on your face, trying to scramble for an excuse as Feyd-Rautha rubs a whimper out of you.

In the moments he does and you freeze, he watches your face a moment longer and then something shifts in his eyes, and he pulls back.

“I’ll call on you soon,” he says.  There’s something satisfied, almost smug in his tone.  He doesn’t wait for a response from you before he gets up and leaves, and you wonder what caused his departure.

Idrisa comes in a minute later with more tea for you.  “The Na-Baron seems mollified,” she says.  “He’s taken the news well.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

You catch Idrisa furrowing her brow-line, incredulous even with her head bowed before she can smooth over her expression into one of polite indifference.

“He doesn’t need to know yet,” you tell her.  “He said he’d call on me later.”

“My apologies for speaking boldly, Na-Baroness,” she says, “but the Na-Baron will still take you to bed tonight or whenever he decides is convenient.  Harkonnen men expect their wives to always be available to them, no matter how they’re feeling.”

You suppose you already knew this.  It certainly doesn’t help the gnawing feeling in your stomach even as the medicine Idrisa gave you has soothed the cramps for now.  

“It appears I can hold him off until after dinner, at least,” you finally say.  There’s that; you also appreciate having another meal without the Baron’s presence.

You wish you had someone you could talk to about this in which it wouldn’t feel weird to ask.  You look over at Idrisa.  She’s the only friend you’ve managed to make so far and while you don’t see that changing anytime soon, you haven’t forgotten that she keeps you company out of obligation.  You can’t be certain as to whether or not she actually likes you, or if she only tolerates you due to her heightened position within the Harkonnen Fortress as your personal attendant.  Still, she’s certainly better than no one to ask.  She takes your old mug and heads for the door.

“Idrisa,” you start.  She turns.  “You’ve…have you been with men before?”

She inclines her head in a polite nod.  “When it’s required of me,” she says.

Your second question dies in your mouth.  Oh.  Right .  Yet again you’re disgusted but can’t say you’re all that surprised.

And instead of asking for advice you’re struck by another thought.  “Has the Na-Baron ever…?” you start and she immediately shakes her head.

“Never, Na-Baroness,” she assures you.  “He has never been known to satiate himself that way with slaves.”

Are you being honest or telling me what I want to hear? you almost ask but spare her the indignity.  You’re reasonably certain that if Feyd-Rautha had taken advantage of her, he’d have gloated to you about it.  “Thank you,” you tell her.  You don’t want to know how men on Geidi Prime have abused her mouth.  “I was just curious.”

“Not at all, Na-Baroness,” she says.

As the hours tick by you wish you'd just told Feyd-Rautha your situation and gotten whatever awkward ensuing conversation over with.

In the evening Idrisa brings you dinner, more tea, and a glass of wine.  “The Na-Baron has given you two hours before expecting you in his bedchambers.”

You sigh.  “Thank you, Idrisa,” you tell her, not quite willing to add, you were right .  You eat, you have your tea, you bathe and clean your hair.  And in the remaining time that you have before you need to leave, you sip your wine. You’d be foolish to assume that it will truly settle your nerves, but it tastes nice. 

“I guess it’s time,” you say finally, looking at the timepiece on your nightstand.  “How angry do you think he’ll be?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Na-Baroness,” Idrisa says as she opens the door to lead you to your husband.  “He’s never been married nor been instructed to sire an heir before.”

When you get to his bedroom he’s already standing in the middle of it, wearing only black pants with a relaxed fit that suggests leisure, maybe sleep.  And here you hadn’t taken him as the kind of man to own pajamas.

He looks over your shoulder at Idrisa, who seems just as surprised to see him as you are even as she immediately lowers her head in deference.

“Dismissed,” he tells her, and she curtsies and scurries out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone and rather more dressed than you’ve been in this room.

You stand, awkwardly, playing with the sash to your robe as the two of you look at each other in silence.  Or rather, he stares at you and you look down, knowing what you’d rehearsed and still needing to force the words out.

“My apologies, husband, but it’s my time of month,” you finally manage.

“I know,” he says.  “I could smell it on you.  I could feel your rag in between your legs.”

Was that what he was doing?  You look up at his face and find nothing that you can really parse and pause, unsure what you could say to that, before you move on.

“I know it’s not ideal, but we can try again in a few days, and in the meantime,” you try to sound like you’re not as nervous as you are, fully aware that seduction was never something you learned, “I know that there are…other ways to satisfy you.”  A few days and we can resume trying to secure your firstborn .  

He gives a small smirk at the second part of your statement but comments only on the first.  “A few days?” he repeats, as if you’ve just said either the funniest or dumbest thing he’s heard all week.  “What makes you think I care to wait a few days?”

You’re not sure you heard him right.  “The blood,” you say slowly.  “I can’t control it.”

“You think a Harkonnen would be scared of a little blood?” he says.

You’re not sure what to say to that.  In hindsight, you’re not sure why you’d assumed that this man of all men would be too squeamish to fuck a bleeding woman.

“Strip down,” he says, after the seconds of silence that follow.  He sounds so casual as he says it, as if he just told you to have a seat.  You hesitate, still unsure if he’s being serious.

“Did you not understand me?” he prompts when seconds tick by and you haven’t moved.

“I do, husband,” say.  “But still, I have to warn you that it’ll make a mess.”

“Y/N,” he says, his tone somehow light.  There’s an element of danger to it.  “You’re not the one who’ll have to clean up afterwards.”

Nor you , you think.  “So you want me in this state.”  You don’t phrase it as a question but he can hear the confusion in your voice.

The smirk never quite left his face but returns in full as he crosses the few steps over to you that leaves you close enough that you can feel his breath.  He takes your wrist and presses your hand to his groin–it’s rapidly filling out.

“What do you think?” he says.

You gasp, almost giving an incredulous laugh as you glance between his face and back down to his groin.  Harkonnen men are built differently, you suppose.  

You pull away enough to unravel your robe and step out of your slippers.  He doesn’t object to your garments being left on his floor instead of neatly tucked on his dresser, so you keep going, pulling your chemise over your shoulders, pulling down your undergarment and letting it slide down your legs, until you’re bared entirely for him.

He looks down at the blood that gathered in the kerchief lining the gusset of your undergarment as it hits the floor and you step out of it, and then he looks back at you.

“Hold your arms out like this, wrists together,” he says, extending his own to demonstrate.

He still doesn’t seem angry, his tone suggesting patience that you know he doesn’t have, but you hesitate before mimicking him.

“Very nice,” he says, and you bristle at his condescension as he half-circles you before heading for his armoire.  You turn around to watch him open it, and your jaw drops when you see what’s inside.

It’s lined with whips, rope, chains, knives, scalpels, collars, and other items you’ve never seen before but if this is in his bedroom then it must serve one particular purpose, either on himself whoever has the misfortune of being with him when he wants to use any of these devices.  

He glances over his shoulder and looks if anything delighted by your stunned reaction, the growing sense of dread.  “I didn’t say you could drop your arms,” he says, and turns back to pick out a length of black rope.

You suppose you ought to be grateful that he didn’t pick out any chains.

You watch as he loops an intricate tie binding your wrists.  He does it with such practiced ease he looks directly into your eyes as he does it.  You manage to hold his gaze in defiance even as your heart hammers in your chest and you’re scared of what’s going to happen next.  You know that, like a true Harkonnen, he likes your fear, but it hasn’t occurred to either of you yet that he also appreciates your fire.

“Get on all fours on the bed, pet,” he says, tone light and playful as much as his gravely timbre can make it.

You try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, making sure he’s never fully out of your sightline as you get on the bed, squirming but managing to maneuver the position he wants while your wrists are bound.  He knows that you don’t trust him, and if anything that seems to elevate his excitement.  

Good girl, he seems to be thinking.  He looks you over, turning and sauntering so he can take a moment to gaze first at your naked profile, then at your backside.

You have to keep reminding yourself that he won’t do anything that will risk you being able to give him children as he turns away and pads over to his armoire.  For a moment you’re not sure if he’s trying to decide what he’d like to use, or if he’s purposefully biding his time to make you more nervous.  His fingertips seem to dance over the whips, then the chains.  He briefly touches the handle to one of his knives.

Not the scalpel.  Please not the scalpel.

You see it–corded leather.  A black whip with multiple knotted tails.  He takes it down from his display but leaves the armoire doors open–undoubtedly to keep reminding you of what else he could be and very likely will be doing to you in the future.

You think about the Bene Gesserit Litany and try to repeat it in your head as you consider the tool? the weapon? clutched in his fist.  At first glance the whip looks like the cat-of-nine-tails your brother-in-law seems so fond of.  However, when you shut your eyes, take a breath, and think of the words– fear is the mind-killer –you realize when you open your eyes again that what Feyd-Rautha’s holding is a lot smaller than a proper cat-of-nine-tails and the tails thicker.  You have no doubt that this is going to hurt, but it doesn’t look like it will rip you apart.

“What, what is this?  A punishment for bleeding? ” you finally ask, unable to handle the silence anymore and because that’s the only explanation you can imagine.

And yet Feyd-Rautha looks amused that you’d suggest it.  “It’s because I want to use it on you,” he says, as if any further explanation would be silly.  “Ever since I first saw you, I wondered what that pretty ass of yours would look like after I’d taken this to it.”  He holds up the device for emphasis.  “I wondered what noises you’d make.  I wanted to know what you’d look like with your wrists bound, naked and helpless in my bed.  What you’d look like squirming and bleeding.

“ Yesterday was a punishment,” he adds.  “This is just fun.”

For you, perhaps, you think.  It’s no matter; you’ll just have to prove that you can take whatever he dishes out.  You just have to decide whether it’s better or worse that he’s not doing this out of anger. 

“Are you scared, pet?” he asks.

“ No, ” you lie in the most adamant and dignified tone you can muster, and once again he acts like what you’ve said is cute.  He clicks his tongue.

“You mustn’t lie to me in bed, pet,” he says, approaching the bed again, his free hand skimming over your ribcage, your side, your hip, as he finally stands beside the bed, and ever-so-slowly draws the corded whip up and down the backs of your thighs.  The tassels brush gently against your skin and it feels perverse, the anticipation he’s building within you.  On his second pass you inhale sharply, shutting your eyes, hips twitching away from the device, and Feyd-Rautha chuckles at that.

“Relax,” he says.

Fuck you.  You know I can’t.  Just do it and get it over with , you want to tell him with your sharp exhale, and one second later he draws his hand back and brings the whip down.

You cry out, rocking forward, your entire body clenching up as much from shock as pain.  Nothing could really prepare you for this; his hand from the first night had been easier, more personal.  The individual cords spread out like a fractal tree, like cracks in a block of ice fanning out. 

The second time is less sharp, more of a thud that reverberates through your body, the impact reverberating in your pulse.  Tears prick up at the corners of your eyes and for a moment you can’t breathe.  It would figure that this man has used this device often enough that he knows how to inflict different flavors of pain depending on whether he’s putting the movement in his wrist or his forearm.  You clench your fists, waiting for the next lash, and then the next.

Your nerves are on fire.  You can barely think, barely focus on anything but the exquisite pain on impact, the sharp sting of the air against your impacted flesh, the sweet moments you adjust, finding your breath, before he comes down again.  You don’t scream, not after the first blow, but the tears forming at the corners of your eyes start trickling down your face and then drop directly onto your forearms the covers below you when you bow your head.  

You don’t know how long he keeps going, don’t keep count.  The pain starts to dull but the intensity becomes overwhelming as he compounds on every lash.  Your ears are ringing.  You taste iron at the back of your throat.  The worst part is that you find, to your horror, your nipples feel stiff.  You start to feel wet.

It has to be a fear response.  This isn’t enjoyable .  It’s intense, it’s painful, and you can’t help but feel shame lance through you that your body would react this way.

Please.  I can’t take any more , you want to tell him, but opt instead to whimper through your clenched teeth.

At that moment the whip comes down and it sends you toppling forward, finally collapsing.  The covers are soft against your tear-stained cheek.  You shut your eyes, panting, waiting for him to haul you back up and continue the process.

But nothing happens.  You don’t try to look behind you and hope that he’s done.  You just take a rattling breath and listen for the sound of the whip and its tendrils slicing through air, and it doesn’t come.  

“You lasted longer than I thought you would,” Feyd-Rautha says, the first time he’s spoken in minutes, and you open your eyes and  turn your head to see him twist the coils of his whip and head over to the armoire.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder.  “Back into position, pet.”  

You grit your teeth and force yourself back up on your hands and elbows.  “Good,” he adds softly, and it’s embarrassing how one single word of praise makes you flush, sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.  This shouldn’t have the effect on you that it does–maybe it’s because now that it’s over, you feel lighter, almost dazed.  All of your muscles had tightened into coils, but now you feel pliant to the point that your limbs feel rubbery.  You’re exhausted.  You’re hurt.  You don’t know what else he has on the agenda for you tonight but you just hope it doesn’t involve another one of his whips or ropes.

He sets the device back in the armoire and turns to face you.  He looks at your flushed, tear-stained face and smiles, mouth-closed before approaching the bed, his cock hard in his pants, and even though part of you wants nothing more than to melt into the bed and to get some relief for your stinging backside, you know he’s still going to chase his own pleasure.

‘He’ll want your mouth,’ you remember.  

You won’t wait for him to force it or grind your face into his privates.  If that’s what he wants, you’ll get there first, and so you drop your head and fumble as you reach with bound wrists for the fly of his pants.

You’re focused on what’s directly in your eyeline, so you don’t see his brief look of surprise, but you hear his voice, sounding pleased.  “Let me help you with that, pet,” he says, pulling away long enough to pull his pants down, stepping out of them.

It’s even more daunting when it’s this close to your face, but he steps back in, cradling your jaw, and you lean in and lick the tip of him.

For a few seconds that’s all you know to do, to lick around him, feeling the ridges and veins under your tongue.  It’s all the verification he could possibly need that you’ve never done this before, and that spurs him on, cradling your head in one large hand as the other guides himself past your lips and into your mouth.

It confirms what you suspected; he’s too big to take all the way and thankfully, doesn’t try to make you.  

Not yet, a part of you thinks.  You try to breathe, try not to get your teeth on him, try to relax and close your eyes as he controls the pace.  It’s easy enough at first; far from the rutting of the past couple of nights.  It doesn’t occur to you that, by his standards anyway, he’s being gentle with you.  Doesn’t occur to you to wonder why.  You just try to keep up as your backside and the backs of your thighs sting like hell and you hope Idrisa will have some sort of lotion for it when you get back to your quarters.

Feyd-Rautha appears to have yet another reason to like your hair, it seems, as he threads his fingers through it, guiding you onto him in slowly greater increments until he’s suddenly over halfway in and you freeze, nearly gagging, forgetting how to breathe.

He holds you in place for a moment, just long enough for your eyes to widen as you glance up at him and his heavy-lidded eyes and chest heaving with arousal.  He waits until you’re about to struggle and tear away from him before he relinquishes your hair and steps away, pulling out.  You take a deep breath, gulping the air down.  

“Stay right there,” he says, and settles in behind you, stroking your hindquarters like you’re a horse that he’s trying to calm down.  Will he put a saddle on you next?  You exhale hard through your nose, mouth pursing, waiting for what he’ll do next.  Will he mark up the stinging raw skin he’s already flogged with his hand?

Fine.  Fuck you again.  I can take whatever you’ve got.  I can handle it , you want to tell him out of spite.   You sense him shift, dipping his head, and despite your steeled nerves can’t help but gasp and feel something flutter in your core when you feel his breath against your lower back.

What exactly is he–? is all you have time to think before he dives in.

You jolt and wriggle in shock as he licks over one of your growing welts; you can’t quite tell but wouldn’t be surprised if he broke skin.  However, it’s how his tongue glides over your backside before shifting his weight to your folds that sends waves of shock, revulsion, and excitement as you cry out, stunned.

He’s licking my wounds .

You’re trying to wrap your head around how salacious it is that his lips and tongue alternate between licking the impacted skin on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs and dipping his tongue inside of you.  He has your hips firmly in place, which serves him well given that you’re torn between recoiling away from the heat of his mouth and wanting to press back against it.  You can feel him smirk at the sounds of your shocked moans.

He pulls away long enough to turn you on your back and you wince at the impact before you see him slide down along the bed and continue the onslaught.  You can hardly believe it as he grabs your still-stinging buttocks and buries his face against your bleeding pussy.

This is disgusting , part of you thinks.  Another part of you can hardly understand what’s happening.  In all your years you’ve never met a man who didn’t recoil hearing about monthly courses.  You’ve never heard of anyone wanting to taste a…a bloody gash .

Your wrists are still bound, and you grip onto the pillows above your head as he lifts your thighs to rest over his shoulders and dives back in, tongue pressing inside of you.  

It feels incredible.   You’d prefer it if it didn’t.  More than anything else, you don’t want to be enjoying this, wish the continuous whines and moans he’s drawing out of you were insincere, but he can feel as well as you do that you mean every sound.  You, Lady Y/N of the powerful and dignified house of Y/H, are getting your bloody pussy licked by the ruthless barbarian Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and Great Mother and every forgotten old god, you’re enjoying every visceral and shocking moment of it.

He knows it, too, the smug bastard.  He probably feels even more powerful like this, on his belly and with his face between your legs, than he did when he was tanning your hide.

He raises one hand from your hip to your breast, giving one of your nipples a cruel pinch, smirking against your slit as you whimper in protest, and continues.  His nose presses and rubs against your bud in the onslaught and you finally admit to yourself that any last vestiges of resistance you might have had has caved when you squirm, rocking your hips upwards and desperately wishing that your wrists were free so you could press his face closer into you.

He keeps up his pace, bringing you as close to the edge as possible without reaching it until finally, mercifully, he shifts his mouth to your bud, his fingers replacing his tongue inside of you.  Your unrestrained cries fill the room, spurring him on, and then the force of it hits you as he brings you over the precipice for the first time.  It feels like it comes in shockwaves, especially as he keeps going through it all.

You’re still pulsing and squirming against his tongue when he stops, raising himself up and leaning over you.  Inky, sticky blood coats the lower part of his face, from his chin to his nostrils, and you’re a little surprised at how the sight doesn’t alarm you as much as it probably should, especially since that’s your blood covering his face.

There are far worse ways he could be smeared with your blood .  You gasp, still, at the striking color against the pallor of his face, reminded of seeing him in the arena. 

He presses damp, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts and collarbone, as if to mark you with it.  Finally he sits up, bringing your legs over his as he guides himself into you with his bloodied fingers.

He stays upright as he pulls you onto him, and you watch his face as he looks down where you’re joined, his groan like a rumble in his chest as he sees himself pumping in and out of your bleeding pussy.  He won’t last long, you realize.  He’s been holding himself back from fucking you into the mattress since he visited you in your chambers hours ago. 

He curves in then, bracing one hand above your head to grip your still-bound wrists as his other hand grabs your hip to keep you stable.  You realize what he’s about to do a split second before it can happen.

He’s going to kiss you with that bloody mouth .

You tamp down on the revulsion of it and the coppery smell, again refusing to let him shock you or give you anything you can’t take and move in first, leaning up and capturing his mouth in a kiss.  

He groans into it, hips pumping, tongue invading your mouth as he speeds up, going hard, hips snapping into you.  He’s relentless; this would be agonizing if he hadn’t worked you open and pliant with his lips and tongue and even still, it veers on the edge of being overwhelming.  Your whimpers and cries only encourage him.

And then he finally comes, burying his face in the crux of your neck and biting down, not hard enough to draw blood but enough that it will leave a bruise later.

For a moment the two of you stay that way, then he releases your wrists and sinks down onto you, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he pulls out and takes a moment to catch his breath.  After a moment he raises himself back up on his forearms, pauses, and takes in the sight of your face and your lips stained red before reaching for your wrists again and untying the rope; once freed you notice that your skin’s been chafed rosy but still fully intact.  

He gets up, and you watch the lines of his legs, the slope and curve of his buttocks, the taper from his shoulders to his waist as he gets up and sets the rope back in the armoire before finally closing it shut.

Guess he’s done for the night .

But is he going to send me back right away? you wonder, turning to your side to watch the way he moves.  It takes some effort.  You feel as depleted as a rung-out damp rag.

He approaches the bed and wordlessly holds out his hand, and once you take it guides you to your feet and leads you into this bathroom.

Like his bedroom, it’s larger than yours.

He doesn’t let you wash your blood off your body; he wants it to remain on you until it dries and peels off on its own.  Instead he wipes his face, rinses and cleans out his mouth, and gives you a cup of water to do the same.  He wipes off in between his legs and then yours, quiet and strangely peaceful.  He takes another cloth and wets it, and then grabs a small bottle out of a drawer.  “Turn around, hands on the counter,” he says.

Fairly certain you know what he’s about to do, you acquiesce.  “Did you draw blood?” you ask over your shoulder.

He shakes his head.  “Not this time,” he says.  “Wasn’t trying to.”  And then he surprises you by getting down on one knee.

You give a small gasp.  It just seems…lewd?  Subservient?  And tired and sore as you are, you can’t help the twinge you feel in between your legs as he gingerly presses the cloth against your reddened skin.  You grip the countertop tighter as he opens the bottle of what you can only assume is ointment because after a moment his fingertips are smeared in a cool balm that offers such sweet relief you drop your head, trying to hold yourself together when your legs feel like they’re about to give out and you can feel Feyd-Rautha’s breath so close to the sensitive skin of your backside.

He seems to be applying the ointment to the worst of the welts, starting in silence and then adding, “You’re sensitive, but you have a decent pain tolerance.  I like that.”

You huff a laugh.  I bet you say that to all the girls, you almost tell him, and immediately think that that’s probably not true.  If it weren’t for the fact that he’s tending to your wounds you’d assume that he’d never do anything like this.  Something tells you that this small act of kindness isn’t to be taken lightly or for granted.

Once he seems satisfied with his work he gets back up, sneaking a glance of your face in the mirror.

Is he thinking about how much you’ve already changed since you’ve met? Since you’ve married?  When you see your reflection you don’t see the same person you did a week ago.  Of course he didn’t know you a week ago.  He barely knows you now.  Still, when your eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you with something almost close to affection before he leaves the bathroom.

“Stay the night,” he says when you walk over to your abandoned clothes so you can gather them up, get dressed, and return to your chambers.

You look over at him.

“I’ll want to sample you again first thing in the morning,” he explains, “so it’s more convenient if you remain here.”

You huff, torn between incredulity and amusement.  “Taking advantage of the situation while we still can, are we?” you ask.

“I doubt it’ll come again for another ten months,” he says, and then strides, still naked, for the door.  He opens it, and a few words of battle-language later he shuts again.  He sees your confused expression and explains, “Your slave was still waiting for you.  I told her to go.”  He tilts his head in the direction of his bed, and after a moment you follow.  It appears that he doesn’t even want you to pull your undergarment back on.

As soon as you’re under the covers with him he tugs down your end of it to get one last look at your marked chest.  And after he’s looked his fill, he reaches for a switch that turns off the lights and even as the two of you can’t quite see each other, you still find yourselves on your sides facing one another.

“I wake up earlier than you’re probably used to and I’m a light sleeper.  Your slave assured me that you don’t snore,” he says.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you tell him.

“Once you stop bleeding I’m going to start having you train in my Halls,” he adds.  “I was serious earlier.”

“But for the next few days I’m chained to this bed.”

“That could be arranged,” he says.  “In any case you weren’t complaining when I was licking your cunt earlier.”

He won’t see your flush, but he must know that it’s there.  “So… is it safe to assume that none of this is…” you try to find the right words, “typical?  For a man, I mean.” And in quite possibly the biggest understatement you’ve ever made, “You’re not a normal man.”

You’ve adjusted enough to the dark to see his smirk.  “I think you've known that since before we met, Y/N,” he says.  And after a moment he lays his head, settling in and getting comfortable.  He doesn’t say another word to you that night, just closes his eyes and within a couple of minutes his breath slows.

It’s hard to imagine being able to let your guard down enough with this man to sleep beside him, even if he falls asleep first.  Like sleeping beside a wild animal.  

Sleep does come to you, though, after long minutes watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up and scare you, lunge for you, and it doesn’t happen.

You turn to your other side, facing away from him then, and the only signal you get that he’s not entirely asleep is that as you start to drift off yourself, he reaches one arm to pull you in closer to him.

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai @blazeflays @richardslady121

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[mionemymind]

The Chosen One

Summary: How do you love the daughter of the evilest family in the galaxy? Just ask Wanda Maximoff.

Warnings: Death, Cursing, Blood, Killing, Angst, Evil

A/n: There is a lot of random fandoms in this one shot that inspired me. Let me list them off: Star Wars, Dune, Skyrim, A Court of Thorns and Roses, Fourth Wing. So if these are one of your fandoms, comment what you think I got from them. Also, please do not judge if lore ain't right. This is my version of stuff and god I'm struggling to remember all of it lmaooooo. Also, thank you @usersukuna for the amazing gif. And thank @hiiraya for reading the rough draft of this. Also, I wanted to get your opinion on it before I posted, but that was gonna take long lmaoooo. So if you see any plot holes bestie, let me know and I'll edit it in later. Also, I had intentions of make this more evil but I don't like the idea of Stockholm Syndrome so yeah.

Word Count: 13.3k

Masterlist

Loving the person that the galaxy was sworn to hate was not an easy task for Wanda Maximoff. She had come from a world that was known for its politics, her parents both being senators. Growing up in that scene allowed Wanda to see just how evil people can be when they seek power so recklessly. 

“I’ll never be like them,” Wanda vowed. She was as little as 10 when she first witnessed multiple assassins kill a mad hungry senator. “Those that are corrupt will only lead to a painful end,” Wanda’s father stated. He didn’t intervene or call for any help. Witnessing her father stand by at such a scene made Wanda question, “Was this a good thing or did my father help with his murder?” She was too scared to ask loudly. That was the moment she knew that fear was a powerful thing to have. 

<|>

Wanda was only 15 when her home planet was captured by the Aetos family. In just one night, she witnessed the destruction of the very thing she called home. She was separated from her family as they packed hundreds of young girls and boys in a spaceship. 

Crying her heart out, Wanda feared where they would take her. Soon they arrived at one of the many planets the Aetos family owned, Acrux. Shoving them in a line, Wanda saw many buildings of Greek inspiration. Not only that, she saw the many people who were enslaved there, all of them being no older than 18 years old. 

She was sorted to work at the Colosseum, one of the unluckiest things to do in Acrux. Every day she was tasked to fight a person, creature, etc. just to live another day. It was a brutal life but if she did survive, it would guarantee she would be able to leave at age 18. 

Two weeks after she arrived, she met Y/n. The kids were fighting for food when Y/n whispered to Wanda, “I know where they keep the food.” By then, she was starving to death and any ounce of awareness was gone at the mere offer of food. 

Y/n was talented and light on her feet, something Wanda quickly noticed. As they snuck around the darkly lit corridors, Y/n finally found the food pantry. “You go first, I’ll make sure to stay on the lookout. Try to eat the farthest batch from the front, that way they don’t notice that it’s gone.” 

Wanda didn’t question how Y/n knew this and simply followed her instructions. The pantry wasn’t massive but large enough that missing food would be hard to notice. Wanda first ate a few berries before heading to the bread. Just like Y/n said, Wanda focused on the stack near the back. 

While the bread was slightly cold, Wanda could tell it had been slightly fresh. One piece of it and she was already in heaven. Not able to contain herself, Wanda tried her best to eat as much as she could. It was selfish but she couldn’t help herself. 

Half a minute had gone by before Y/n opened the door and said, “Guards are coming.” Wanda stuffed the rest of the loaf in her pants pocket and followed Y/n out. They hid in a small opening in the hallway, dark enough that the guards hadn’t noticed them as they walked by. 

Wanda hadn’t realized how small the opening was until they were in it, chests almost touching each other. Looking closely at Y/n, Wanda never realized how close in height they were. She had dark hair and a small scar across her right eye. 

“I think they’re gone now,” Y/n coughed out. Wanda broke the stare she didn’t know she was holding. Quietly they made their way back. Wanda stopped Y/n before they entered the shared living quarters. “I appreciate you looking out for me back there. You didn’t have to - and if I’m being entirely honest, I don’t know why you did that.” 

Y/n smiled at Wanda, not knowing how to take her compliment. “But regardless, here is a piece of bread. I saved it because I knew you didn’t get a chance to grab something. I’m sorry I couldn’t get more but I didn’t know what would get noticed or not.” 

Y/n accepted the piece from Wanda and hid it in her pocket. No words were communicated as Y/n gave Wanda a small smile. They walked back into the quarters where everyone was too busy screaming and yelling to notice they were gone. That was the day Wanda started to look out for Y/n. 

<|>

A couple of days later, Y/n had woken up Wanda from her sleep. “Wake up,” Y/n whispered as she shook Wanda awake. Everyone was asleep by now. Y/n took extra precautions to make sure no one was awake. She didn’t need any snitches to ruin her plan. 

Wanda woke up disgruntled, “What? - What is it?” 

“I’ve been thinking.” 

“This late in the night?” Tomorrow was another designated battle for Wanda and she wanted to have as much energy as she could have for it. 

“Yes - I’ve been thinking a lot about you.” This had gotten Wanda’s attention. She sat up in her bed, scooting over to allow Y/n to sit. “Well, spit it out.”

“You and I can make a pack. I’ve seen you fight and you can carry yourself. But you do have your weaknesses.” Feeling defensive about the latter comment, Wanda said, “And you think you’re better? You haven’t even fought - you don’t even know if you can survive a day out there.”

“I know. I know. But hear me out. I have training and experience. My first match is directly after yours. Just watch me and see. And if you decide it’s worth your time, then you and I can be partners.” 

“What do partners mean to you?”

“It means I got your back and you got mine. If you have trouble, I’ll be there. Do you need something? Food, backup, or training, I’m there. Name it, you got it - just as long as you do the same for me.” Y/n looked around to make sure no one woke up to the sound of them talking. 

“What happens if you or I want more partners?” 

Y/n thought about it for a moment, carefully deciding what to say. “I’m only offering this deal to you and you only. If you decide to partner up with somebody else, I can’t be your partner anymore.”

“Does that mean you also won’t be partners with somebody else?”

“It will only be you Wanda - that’s if you accept.” 

Wanda was perplexed at the offer. She wanted to say yes, especially since Y/n had helped her before. Not wanting to seem eager, she said, “Let me watch your fight and think about it.” 

Y/n nodded in her response and got up. Before she could walk away, Wanda grabbed her hand and asked, “Why me?”

With all her truth, Y/n admitted, “‘Cause you’re the only one in here that has a chance of surviving like me.”

As Y/n walked away, Wanda felt hope for the first time on Acrux, hoping that maybe she’d actually leave this place alive. 

<|>

Today was Y/n’s first fight. Wanda walked away from her match victorious once more. On the way back inside, she passed by Y/n. “Good luck,” Wanda said. In her heart, she could feel that Y/n didn’t need luck. There was this energy that she displayed as if she knew she was going to win even with her eyes closed. 

“Thank you. You’re going to watch, right?” Y/n said while jogging backward. Her choice of weapons was two swords. “I will, probably from the gates though since I can’t run to the stands fast enough.” 

Y/n winked and turned around, she yelled back, “Then I’ll make sure it’s something worth watching.” 

<|>

Wanda and Y/n were 16 when Y/n first got hurt in the arena. A hired bystander had jumped into the ring on top of Y/n. Surprised by the attack, her opponent cut her arm. This type of corruption was something the Colosseum highly disapproved of. 

Within seconds, soldiers flooded the arena and arrested the opponent and bystander. Wanda was first among their peers to aid Y/n. The pounding in her heart and the ringing in her ears almost made her blackout with how worried and angry she was. If the soldiers hadn’t been there, Wanda was certain to have murdered them then and there. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda checked everywhere to see if there was more damage that she didn’t see. She didn’t calm down until Y/n held her hand and said, “It’s just a cut on my arm Wands. I’m going to be fine.” 

Wanda helped her up and walked with Y/n through the Colosseum back to their shared room. She immediately went to their first aid kit hidden in a compartment behind their pantry and grabbed all the necessary bandages and sterilization. 

Y/n sat at her bed staring at the cut that was slowly losing blood. “I don’t think it’s deep, thankfully. God that fucker just had to hire somebody.” Wanda grabbed a chair nearby and sat near Y/n’s arm. This was the first time Y/n had needed any type of bandage in their time at the arena. She didn’t want to show it, but it was scary. 

Back then, Wanda was the one to have gotten all the bruises and cuts before Y/n properly trained her. Nowadays, the two hardly have to use the first aid kit at all. 

As Wanda continued to stitch, Y/n noticed Wanda’s shaky hands. “Do you need me to get someone else? It’s okay if you can’t do it, Wanda.” 

“No!” Wanda hadn’t meant to yell but something about this was different. Afraid to say anything more, Y/n remained quiet as Wanda continued to stitch. Once it was done and Y/n was bandaged, Wanda was finally able to breathe again. The ringing in her ears finally stopped. She could feel her senses coming back to her. “Thank you,” Y/n said. 

“You’re welcome.” Wanda placed the first aid back into its hiding spot and got ready for bed. 

Night came and Y/n was quick to sleep while Wanda was wide awake. She laid on her side, paying attention to Y/n’s breathing. Logically she knew that it was just a cut and that nothing bad was going to happen to Y/n. But her heart just couldn’t stop worrying. 

It was then and there that Wanda knew that if Y/n died so would she. 

<|>

A batch of new kids arrived at Acrux. It was a mix of older kids at a range of 15-17. Wanda never had enemies this whole time she had been in the arena, which was only a year and seven months. That was until Emma had arrived. 

She was the same age as Wanda and Y/n. Nothing was special with her until she showed just how good she was at fighting. During her first match, she had beaten Y/n’s record of defeating an opponent in under a minute by a second. 

Emma came out of the arena without a single bruise or scratch. Wanda noticed this but she also noticed that Y/n did too. Wanda was never the type to worry about her place with Y/n, after all, they were partners. But it was the way she noticed Y/n watching Emma that something inside her triggered. 

For now, Wanda let the anger and worry remain inside her. “This will pass,” she thought. But it didn’t. 

Y/n and Wanda were sparing like normal when Y/n brought up the news. “Emma asked me to train her.” The confession caused Wanda to be distracted, allowing Y/n to disarm her with one swoop. 

“What did you tell her?” Wanda asked, ignoring that she was easily defeated in that small moment of distraction.

“That I only train with you.” Wanda released the breath she was holding. She picked up her sword and continued practice like normal. 

Wanda was on the way to dinner when she noticed Emma talking to Y/n again. The visceral rage that grew inside Wanda within a second could have destroyed everyone in her path. But she remained composed and hid nearby. 

It wasn’t that Wanda didn’t trust Y/n. She simply didn’t trust Emma. 

“I don’t understand why you only train with Wanda,” Emma huffed out. She knew that she and Y/n would work well together seeing as they’re part of the rare bunch that actually know how to fight on their own. 

“It’s not something you have to understand. I only train with Wanda. No amount of bargaining will change that.” Emma rolled her eyes at Y/n’s stubbornness. 

“Are you two dating or something?” Wanda’s heart dropped at the question. No one had ever asked her if she was dating Y/n. But that was something she never knew to be thankful for. Her face felt hot and her chest beat like crazy at the mere thought of someone asking her that. 

Wanda would never outright admit that maybe there were some lingering thoughts here and there about Y//n. But this was Acrux and all she could focus on was leaving this planet at age 18 hoping she could find her parents and twin brother.

But here she was, waiting anxiously for Y/n’s response. As if there was some secret she unfortunately wasn’t aware of. Maybe they were dating and she never knew till now. They were partners but does that mean more? 

“No…we’re not,” Y/n answered with some hesitancy. Wanda felt her heart plummet. She hadn’t meant to cry, but tears started falling. “Why am I crying? I already knew we weren’t dating,” she thought. 

There was no point in asking questions. Not when her heart knew…Wanda had fallen for Y/n. 

<|>

Wanda was 17 when she confessed her feelings to Y/n. Emma had been on Acrux for only five months and in those five months, she had constantly made moves on Y/n. Each time, Y/n had denied her offers. 

The more Emma pressed for clearer answers, the more Y/n walked away. And while Y/n would never admit it, Emma suspected that Y/n had feelings for Wanda. 

It was midnight. Wanda was asleep when she was woken up again by Y/n. Turning over, she slowly opened her eyes to a candle and a small cake. “Happy Birthday Wands,” Y/n whispered. “Make a wish.” 

She sat up and held the plate holding the cake. She thought about her wish for a second before blowing out her candle. “What did you wish for?” 

For months, Wanda had been wanting to confess to Y/n. There were multiple times during training, lunch, or even while they hung out that she had wanted to confess. None of them felt like the right time. There was never a right time according to Wanda. 

But it was the way that Y/n had looked at Wanda the whole time as if she was the only girl in the world. Maybe it was her imagination but God Wanda wanted to believe it so badly. And who was she to deny this anymore? 

Unable to hold back the urge, Wanda placed the plate down on her bed as she sat up to grab Y/n by the neck and kissed her. When Y/n did not kiss back immediately, Wanda broke it, afraid that she had messed up the most important thing to her. “I’m so sor-”

Y/n didn’t wait for Wanda to finish as she cupped her cheeks and kissed her back. There was nothing to deny anymore. Not when her knees felt like they could buckle at any moment. Not when the feeling in her chest grew with enticement. 

The desperation in each kiss grew as Y/n sat on Wanda’s bed leading to Wanda to crawl on Y/n’s lap. It felt passionate at first but quickly grew messy after each kiss.  Hardly coming up for air, Wanda grabbed the hair near Y/n’s neck and made a fist of it, unintentionally causing Y/n to moan. 

Feeling Y/n’s hands wrapped around her ass, Wanda moaned as well. She needed this girl more than anyone else in the world. And so be it if Wanda needed air, she needed Y/n more. Y/n broke their kiss, her eyes dilated with lust. While slightly heaving, Y/n confessed, “If you want me Wanda, I’m yours. Only yours.” 

“Show me then.” 

<|>

Y/n turned 18 two months after Wanda’s birthday. Although Wanda was eligible to leave, she stayed, not wanting to leave her girlfriend behind.

They were packing their things up, only carrying the basic necessities before completely leaving the Colosseum. They headed to the landing docks, waiting for the next transportation to arrive when a black spaceship, decked out with the Aetos family logo, arrived.

“Wanda let's go,” Y/n said as she tugged on Wanda’s hand. “That’s not our ride, dekta.” 

“Do you trust me?” Confused by the question, Wanda answered with, “Of course.” 

“Then let's go.” Not wanting to argue anymore, Wanda followed Y/n onto the ship. As soon as they went in, the doors closed, immediately lifting off. A droid entered the main area and stated, “Welcome back Master Y/n. Let me grab your things.” Y/n reached out with their things in her hand. As the droid grabbed their items, Wanda was perplexed at how the droid knew Y/n. “Master? Why did he call you master?” 

There was a worried look on Y/n’s face. The burden she had been carrying for three years was finally going to be free. “I need you to sit down Wanda.” 

“I’m not gonna sit down until you tell me the truth. Why did that droid call you master?” Wanda anxiously waited for Y/n’s response. Nothing was making sense and every single second without the truth only agitated Wanda even more. 

Y/n sighed. There was no way to hide from this. Wanda deserved to know the truth. 

“It’s because he’s my droid. My family gave him to me as a gift for my 5th birthday.” 

“Stop fucking around Y/n. There’s more to this story. Why are we on this ship?!” Wanda crossed her arms, unhappy with the secrets. 

“Before I tell you, I need you to know that I was only able to tell you once I turned 18. Had I told you before then, it would have cost me my life.” There was no response from Wanda, causing Y/n to stress even more. She sat down and continued, “My name is Y/n Aetos. I’m the eldest daughter of the Aetos family.” 

Wanda’s face dropped. “You’re lying. Please tell me you’re lying.” Tears came down Y/n’s face as she shook her head no. 

“This whole time you’ve been lying to me! I told you everything! I gave you every single part of me that was vulnerable just for you to be lying this whole time about who you are!” 

“Hear me-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Get me off this ship now!” Y/n got up and walked to Wanda. But for every step, Wanda stepped back. It was obvious that Y/n was hurt by the reaction. 

“Bab-”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” Wanda snarled. The love of her life had not only betrayed her but was the very reason she was in Acrux in the first place. “If you don’t get me off this ship right now, I will crash it into the nearest planet.” 

There was no point in calling out her bluff. Y/n knew that even if Wanda had tried, she would be unsuccessful. But that was not a route she was willing to take. Not when it came to her. 

“I will give you everything you want - you want off of this ship? Fine. But please let me explain myself.” Before Wanda could disagree, Y/n continued, “I was only 15 when my parents said I had to go to a planet of their choosing and survive until I was 18. It was a long-standing part of our family tradition. Those that survive lead well and those that fail never get to see another day again.” Wanda saw the pained expressions on Y/n’s face as she relieved through the harsh memories. 

“A chip was planted inside my neck on my 15th birthday that forbade me to ever say what my bloodline was. I could only go by my years of training and knowledge. Had I told you, the chip inside me would have blown up within an instant.” 

“No one in this galaxy besides my masters and servants knows what I looked like. For the very reason that if I don’t survive until I’m 18, they simply would not want their precious kingdom to know that I was a failure.” 

There was silence as Y/n pleaded for Wanda to look at her. When she didn’t, Y/n continued to silently cry. This was the day she got back her freedom but at what cost? 

Finally, Wanda spoke up, “Why did you have to rope me into this? I was fine by myself. Was it all a trick to you?” 

Shaking her head no, Y/n confessed, “I knew strategically that if I had someone to rely on then my odds of surviving would increase. In the beginning, you were someone I only looked at as a companion, an ally.” 

“It wasn’t until the day you almost died that everything had changed for me.”

Wanda remembered that day clearly. A bull had managed to stab her straight in the stomach after failing to dodge the attack. Causing her to bleed out in the arena. Thankfully it was a 2v2 match and Y/n was her partner. 

“I had never killed something as fast as that day. When I saw you bleeding, I- I-,” Y/n cupped her mouth to suppress a sob. That was one of the worst days of her life. “I used all my winnings and favors that day to save you. And I didn’t even know then if you were going to survive.” 

Wanda was surprised at the tears falling down her eyes. She didn’t know when it started but it didn’t stop. 

“So when you did, I vowed that I was going to get you out…even if it had cost me my life.” Y/n wiped the tears from her face. Wanda had finally decided to look at Y/n and was heartbroken at the sight. 

“So when you kissed me on your 17th birthday, I knew you were the one for me. It was selfish of me to have you to myself but you are my reason to live Wanda.” Y/n took one more step to Wanda. And when she didn’t back up, she walked even closer. 

“I did not mean to have fallen in love with you. And I certainly did not mean for you to have fallen in love with me.” Y/n cupped Wanda's cheeks and wiped her tears away. “And I’m sorry it was me that you’ve fallen for because you deserve better Wanda.” 

“Did you even want to tell me?” 

“More than you will ever know.” 

“What does this mean for us?” Y/n hardly felt scared in life. It was the way she grew up that if you were to be scared, you would be just like the weak. But today, Y/n felt scared not knowing what the future had for her and Wanda. 

“I will not force you to stay. But if you choose to go…just know my heart will always belong to you.” 

<|>

Two weeks have gone by since Wanda chose to leave Y/n. It was not an easy decision to make. Even her dreams constantly haunt her,  reminding her of the heartbroken face Y/n had when she left. But Wanda could not stay knowing what the Aetos family had done to the galaxy. 

True to her promise, Y/n did not force Wanda to stay. Instead, she used her family’s database to try and find the last rumored location of the Maximoff family. 

“It appears your brother has been in hiding according to these latest reports. He’s currently in the Andromeda fighting against the Blackbar army takeover.” Y/n wiped away her last tears as she moved from the holographic map to a storage unit on the other side of the room. She grabbed a backpack full of equipment, extra water, and a weapon that was in Wanda’s skillhouse. 

Y/n walked back to Wanda and gave her all the items. She tried her best to appear strong for what Wanda chose. “Here are all the items you could need. Inside the backpack is armor, food, water, and a tent. You’ll need to be careful as the armor has my family’s signet on it. Any person who will see it will automatically assume you're the enemy. The first thing you need to do is get rid of it. Take sap from the thick trees that inhabit Andromeda. It should help get rid of the logos.”

Y/n looked around the room for one last item and gave it to Wanda. “And here,” Y/n said while handing it out. “What is this?”

“A beacon. Right now, no location of it exists. But as soon as you press this red button, it’ll alert me of your location. If you ever need help, just press this button and I’ll be there for you. However, it will only be me who comes to your aid. I can’t send troops without my parents knowing about my actions. For now, I think it’s best if we avoid that.” 

“Master Y/n, we’ve landed in Andromeda.” Y/n nodded and looked at the back doors opening revealing the jungle. The hot atmosphere quickly invaded the inside of the plane. There was no clearing in sight as tall trees surrounded them. 

Y/n walked Wanda to the edge of the plane before stopping. “I hope you find your family Wanda.” 

Wanda didn’t know what to say. Instead, she gave Y/n a strong hug before walking away. At the last minute, Wanda turned around to see the door closing. She glanced at Y/n’s face to see a tear fall. 

“I hope to never see you again Wanda Maximoff,” Y/n thought, “You were the best part of my life.”

In an instant, the ship was gone and Wanda was alone again. 

<|>

Wanda was alone in the woods when Pietro had found her. She was preparing for the night as she took off her armor. No logos appeared on it. Wanda had followed Y/n’s advice by immediately removing any signet bearing the Aetos family logo. 

Preparing her tent, she was ambushed by a team. In seconds, soldiers came out from their hiding spots, pointing their guns directly at her. “It was calculated,” Wanda thought as there was no chance for her to attack back. They had been watching for a while now and she barely felt it. Wanda felt stupid but could hardly blame herself. She was exhausted and hungry. 

Wanda heard the leaves behind her ruffle as their Captain spoke, “Who are you?” Wanda waited for them to circle in front of her. She didn’t need to startle any of the team fearing that they might shoot at any sudden movements. 

“My name is Wanda Ma-,” before she could finish her sentence she came eye to eye with someone who looked very familiar. “Pietro?!” 

Pietro was stunned at the girl that knew his name. He got on high alert. He aimed his blue saber at her and almost demanded more information but the terrified look on Wanda’s face stopped him in his tracks. “Wanda?” 

Pietro retracted his saber and hugged his twin sister. “You’re here…you’re finally here.” Wanda hugged back, almost afraid to believe that he was right there. 

“We need to get you back to safety,” Pietro stated as he rounded up his men. “There are so many things I need to tell you but right now let's pack up your stuff and get back to my base. Night in Andromeda is not safe.” 

<|>

Pietro led Wanda back to a village in the trees. Many huts were placed high above the ground and all were connected by wooden bridges that allowed for easier travel. “This is my home,” Pietro said as they walked through the door. “I’ll let you freshen up in the bathroom. In the meantime, I’ll prepare us dinner.” 

Wanda walked into the bathroom and noticed all the dirt and sap that covered her face and armor. She quickly undressed herself and practically moaned at the feeling of hot water. After she finished washing herself, Wanda got dressed in some fresh clothes that Pietro laid out. 

“Dinners ready!” Pietro yelled from the kitchen. Wanda walked out of the bathroom and placed her armor near the front of the house, not wanting to get Pietro’s place dirty. Once she got near the kitchen, she could smell the richness of the meal, instantly making her stomach grumble with delight. “Dig in.” 

Wanda sat across Pietro and served herself a portion of the meal. They both ate in silence as Wanda devoured the food in front of her. It was hard to survive in Andromeda when she knew little of what could kill her or not. 

“Do you like it?” Wanda nodded in agreement as she stuffed herself. “That’s good to hear. I’ve been working on my cooking skills whenever I have free time.” 

Wanda ate a couple more bites before asking, “Are you a captain of sorts? It seemed like those soldiers responded to your commands.” 

“I am. Although there’s not much official order around here, I have managed to get respected enough to be followed as a captain.” Pietro collected their dishes and placed them in the sink. 

“Let’s talk more in the living room.” As Wanda and Pietro sat on the couch, Wanda was quick to ask, “Do you have any clue on where our parents are?” With a solemn smile, Pietro said, “Our parents are..away.” 

“What do you mean?” Pietro sighed as he readjusted his position, “Let me start from the beginning.”

Pietro cleared his throat, “During the invasion, the Aetos family had packed all the younglings on a ship. We were supposed to be sent to Acrux but my ship had crash-landed in Andromeda. Thankfully, there was a village nearby that helped all of us out and took us in.”

“For weeks, I tried my best to find a way to get back home. It wasn’t until I got access to our family’s money that someone listened to me.”

“They provided me with transportation back but once I arrived, it was like a different place Wanda. Within those weeks, the empire of Barlowe had taken over everything. It was like a planet that housed thousands of soldiers for miles.”

“I tried my best to get intel on what happened. Fortunately enough, the few native people left told me everything.” Pietro reached out and grabbed Wanda’s hand. “An invasion from the Barlowe empire happened. They disguised themselves as the Aetos family to manipulate the rest of the galaxy into thinking that they were taking over.” 

“They relocated all the children to many different places. As for the adults, those that weren’t captured fled and those that were captured had to work for the empire.” 

“I tried sneaking into one of their bases to find more intel on our parents but all I could find was that they weren’t captured and were in hiding. The next thing I did was look for you in the system but nothing about you popped up. I wanted to find out more but I didn’t know how. So I flew back to Andromeda and have been living here with the other kids from Fornia.” 

Wanda sat there and tried her best to take all of it in. “Do you think they’re still alive?” Pietro sighed once more as there were countless times he thought of finding them. “I wish they were but it’s been three years and none of the other kids have a clue on where their parents are at. We kind of stopped holding on to hope of seeing our parents again when the Blackbar army started their invasion on Andromeda a couple of months ago.” 

“What’s stopping you from fleeing?” Wanda was desperate to cling on to Pietro. The fact that he was still alive gave Wanda some hope that her parents were also alive. 

Pietro looked away as he glanced at the window showcasing the village. “In the three years I’ve been here, I’ve managed to find myself people that I trust and care about. In turn, they look to me to help defend Andromeda from this takeover. I know I could still flee using our family’s money, but where would I go? Invasions are happening all around the galaxy.” Pietro was momentarily lost in his thoughts as he remembered all the times he desperately wished his family would rescue him. 

“Not only that, there’s this girl that I’ve grown feelings for. She’s been with me since we crashed here. And I don’t have the heart to leave her.” Although Wanda wanted to feel disappointed in Pietro’s decision to stop looking for their parents, she too knew the feeling of not being able to leave without Y/n. She reminisced for a few moments before focusing back on the conversation.  

“There is more that I need to tell you but could you tell me what it’s been like for you?” 

With a heavy heart, Wanda sighed, “Where do I even start?” 

<|>

“How did we even get to this point?” Wanda questioned as she fought her best to stay conscious. Dry blood ran down her face, her hands were tied behind her back, and a gag was placed in her mouth. Pietro was passed out in the cell across from her, tied up in the same manner. 

The twins were barely united for two weeks before Blackbar’s army sent reinforcements to further the invasion of Andromeda. Pietro was stuck in the front lines along with Wanda who refused to leave his side. The village barely was able to make a dent in the enemy’s forces before being captured. 

That was three days ago and now the majority of the village was stuck in a cell each being tortured for information. “Get up,” the guard demanded as they opened Wanda’s cell. She proceeded to scream and kick the best she could, causing Pietro to wake up. 

“Let go of her!” He screamed into his gag. “Get the boy as well.” The guard had enough of Wanda’s theatrics and punched her in the face causing her to pass out from all the pain. They dragged the twins to the control area where the leader of the operations was, dropping them in the middle of the room. “Are you idiots? I need them awake.”

“Yes, sir.” Grabbing the syringe, the guards injected Wanda and Pietro with a serum that would help them stay awake. “Remove their gags.” 

Stirring awake, Wanda groaned in pain. Nothing in Acrux had compared to this aching feeling throughout her body. If she had the energy, she would have screamed from how much pain she was feeling. “Wanda Maximoff, just the girl we need. According to our intel, you were on Acrux around the same time a certain Aetos was inhabiting the planet.” 

Wanda was barely conscious as she saw General Tullius grab a knife and hold it to Pietro’s neck. “Tell me what you know or your brother is going to die.” Wanda’s eyes widened, “Please don’t!” She thrashed in her bindings as tears fell from her eyes. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know but please let him go.” 

“Wanda don’t-”

“Silence! If you want to live, I suggest you cooperate.” Pietro froze as the knife was pressed deeper into his throat. 

“General Tullius,” a different soldier entered the room with Wanda’s backpack in hand. “Here are the girl’s items.” General Tullius grabbed the bag and looked through it. The only thing that caught his eye was the small remote. 

He dropped the bag and observed it. “Tell me Ms. Maximoff, what does this do?” Wanda held her breath at the very thing that could save them. “Don’t press it,” she begged. He didn’t listen and pressed it anyway. He looked around and felt nothing happen. “It’s useless anyways - come with me now, you have information to share.”

“As for you,” General Tullius sliced Pietro’s throat as Wanda Maximoff screamed in horror, witnessing her only sibling die in front of her. 

<|>

Hours have gone by and Wanda has not given any information to the General. All she could focus on was the blood on the floor where Pietro’s dead body was once. 

“If you can’t provide me with the information, I will find someone who can,” General Tullius spat at Wanda. There was a different type of evil in his eyes. Only hot anger lay behind them. Which meant one thing, General Tullius was sent here to prove something, something his superior doubted. And any loss meant more than likely his life. 

Tired and barely clinging on to her life, Wanda prayed and pleaded with all her might that Y/n would come soon. But as minutes went by, her hope waned. Y/n could be anywhere in the galaxy, probably back with her family, which could be light-years away. How could Wanda believe that she’d drop everything to come? “God, please…please send me help.” 

“Sir, an unmarked ship is heading directly for us. How would you like to respond?” 

“Take it down!” General Tullius could not bother with the inconveniences as he headed back to Wanda. Before he could hurt her again, explosions rattled the building followed by the blaring alarm system. 

“What the?” More artillery exploded. A shiver ran down General Tullius. He could feel the raw power that landed in his fortress. The force inside him could feel that this was only one person but someone not to mess with. 

“Turn on the cameras! They’re inside the building.” Wanda paid attention to all the chaos. She could see the panic run through General Tullius. This was someone above his skill level, someone powerful. 

The camera feed played for everyone in the headquarters to see. A dark figure with all-black armor walked through the hallways. No effort was exerted as this figure force choked the troops in her way. The raw power caused the camera feed to go black as the lights flickered out. 

“What’s happening?! Give me a different angle now!” The officer did as told and tried their best to provide a different camera angle. In a different room, a new wave of troopers prepared for the enemy. Everyone could easily hear the terrifying screams coming from the other side of the door. 

“Hold,” the commander stated. The building shook as the door crunched slowly. Soon it was pulled off its hinges. No one could see what was happening. 

A bloody body came crawling out of the shadows, “Please…kill…me.” A trooper tried to reach out but the body was merely dragged out of sight. Soon, the rumble of a lightsaber was heard. The red color illuminated the shadow of the figure. “Fire!” 

Red lasers fired their way. None touched the figure. One was purposely deflected to hit the camera inside. The feed went to black and General Tullius knew what he was facing. 

Wanda almost smiled in delight at the scared look on General Tullius’s face. “It’s Y/n,” she thought. The General gathered all officers and troopers to aim at the door. “We need to be on lockdown! Now!” 

“That would never be enough,” Wanda thought. But the injuries were adding up, she could feel herself needing to sleep. Soon, she saw the door fly off its hinges, crushing the majority of those who guarded it. The smoke and alarms were too much to process. Wanda fainted from the pain. The last thing she saw was the color red. 

<|>

Not much time had passed before Wanda woke up. Everyone in the room was already dead besides General Tullius. The saber in his stomach was hard to miss. 

“My family’s name is carried through the innocents we kill, the horrors children sing, and the people we control,” Y/n’s helmet unveiled to show her face. The glow of her lightsaber made her eyes appear red with madness. Inch by inch, she pushed her saber further and further, wanting the burning sensation to feel like an eternity.

“Your death will be meaningless compared to the thousands of generals we’ve killed.” General Tullius felt his blood start to boil, the heat coming from the lightsaber was burning him inside out. “Your men will forever remember the day I single-handedly slaughtered them to the masses.” His blood started to spill out of his eyes, mouth, and nose. No words could escape as he continued to scream in horror. 

“And you will never know a day of peace as I will chase you in hell for all the crimes you’ve committed against her.” Y/n flicked her arm, slicing the general in half. The smell of his flesh burning was almost too much for Wanda to handle as she looked away. She could hear the body drop to the ground as the room soon became quiet. 

Y/n surveyed the room of her damages. Many troops lay dead all because of one call. But this was who Y/n was. The daughter of the most evil family in the world. And Wanda so happens to be the person she loved. 

Y/n retreated her lightsaber back to its hilt and clipped it onto her belt. She removed her helmet and slowly walked towards Wanda. Bruises were covering Wanda’s body as well as some dried blood coming from her forehead. The sight made Y/n choke in anger but she remained composed. 

“Wanda?” Y/n called out, hoping to not scare her off. This was a side that Wanda had never seen before. The killings in the Colosseum were mandatory. It was always the opponent you were against but this. This was different. Y/n killed mercilessly without hesitation. No one could even beg to live another day before she killed them off. This was the part of Y/n that held the Aetos family name. This was the evil that surrounded and consumed Y/n. 

There were a couple of feet between them when Wanda spoke up and said, “You killed them all.” Wanda looked around, unable to cope with how much death surrounded her in just one instance. “I know my love.” Y/n didn’t move any closer, allowing Wanda to process. “I’m sorry I took so long…are you okay?” 

When Wanda looked into Y/n’s eyes, she no longer saw the person she had just seconds ago. Here was the Y/n she fell in love with. The one that made sure she was okay at the end of the day. The one that would give up her food to make sure she ate. The one that would kiss away all the pain from being on Acrux. The one that just knew her. 

Wanda ran back into Y/n’s arm where everything clicked. She felt safe, wanted, and loved in her arms. Nothing would ever harm her here. Tears ran down Wanda’s face, exhaustion creeping up on her. “Everything is going to be okay my love, I promise.” Y/n continued to murmur soft affirmations, hoping it would calm Wanda down. 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me right now, but let’s get you somewhere safe.” Wanda nodded in agreement as Y/n wiped her tears away. Hand in hand, they walked out of the base without any interruptions. 

<|>

There was a small fire near the ship that Y/ n prepared. Using the force, she gathered two decent-sized logs to use as makeshift chairs. Heading back outside, Y/n held a pot filled with her meat soup recipe. She hooked it over the fire and stirred. Feeling satisfied with it, she sat next to Wanda who was finally bandaged up. 

“You look different,” Wanda commented. “Is that a good or bad thing?” Wanda took a decent look at Y/n. She still had the scar on her eye but her face looked more sharp and her skin was more tan. There was this slight glow surrounding her. 

“I would say good.” Y/n hummed in satisfaction. Hearing the soup boil, she prepared two bowls. “Here you go, Wanda. Be careful, it’s hot.” Wanda held the warm bowl and started to blow air towards it. Wanda grabbed the extra spoon from Y/n’s hand. The smell coming from the bowl was to die for. Not only that, Wanda was desperate for a warm home-cooked meal. Wanda didn’t wait for the soup to simmer to start eating. Together they ate in silence like old times. 

When they were done, Y/n gathered the dishes and headed back inside the ship. She placed them inside the washer and walked back outside. It was nighttime now and Andromeda had the clearest view of the sky. “Have you taken a look at the sky?” 

“It was one of the first things I noticed after we parted ways. Even though it’s been six months, I’ve always been blown away. It almost feels like I can reach all the stars in the sky.” Wanda held her hand out as she examined the sky, imagining what it would feel like to have it in the palm of her hand. 

Y/n laid down beside Wanda. They each had their own sleeping bag. “The stars looked different here compared to my home planet.” 

“What is it like?” 

“Well, my planet is mainly full of cloudy skies. I don’t go outside often enough since my home is underwater.” Wanda turned on her side to face Y/n. She was surprised at the new information since they never got to speak about Y/n's true life. 

“Why is your home underwater? Do you not have land to build on?” Y/n shook her head in disagreement. “We do have land but mainly use it for decoy purposes. Our true city lies at the bottom of the ocean. While we don’t quite have stars in the sky, the surrounding coral and fish are a different site to see.” 

“Did you miss your family?” Wanda didn’t know where the courage to ask these questions came from. Mainly, she had wanted to distract herself from the events before. 

“I did. When they saw my course for home, they called me to tell me they were proud of me.” Y/n thought for a moment before admitting, “I did miss you more though.” Y/n looked at Wanda. Not knowing what to say, Wanda gave her a small smile. 

“I know I said I’ll give you time, but I need to know what you want to do after this.” 

“I don’t have a clue right now.” It scared Wanda to know she had no plan. For the past three years, all she could focus on was coming back home to her family. It was foolish to believe that everything was going to be fine after three years, that they could go back to the way it was. But sadly, she couldn’t. 

“Do you want to come home with me?” 

“I-,” Wanda cut herself off after remembering all the tall tales of the Aetos family. “I know my family’s reputation scares you but I promise you there is nothing to be afraid of. I’ll be there to protect you. Not only that, I have a separate condo in the city. You can stay there as long as you like until you figure out what your plan is.” 

Wanda was silent for a moment. Too much change was happening in such a short amount of time. It was almost too much for Wanda to handle. But as she looked at Y/n’s pleading eyes, she couldn’t help but say, “You better protect me.” 

“I cross my heart.” 

<|>

“We’re on course to my home planet Vernak,” Y/n shouted from the cockpit. She flicked a couple more switches before setting the ship on autopilot. Y/n walked back to the main area of the small ship to find Wanda in deep thought. 

“I can set it for a longer route if you need more time to think.” Wanda broke out of her thoughts and smiled at Y/n. “It’s okay,” Wanda sighed, “As long as you’re protecting me, then anything is better than being captive again.” 

Y/n knelt in front of Wanda and slowly intertwined their hands. “Don’t be afraid to talk to me. I know that it’s been a lot of change since we left Acrux but I’m still the Y/n you know, the one that will never let anyone hurt you again.” 

Wanda wanted to believe Y/’s words. There was still a large part of Y/n that she never knew about and that terrified her. “How do I know that I won’t get hurt on Vernak?” 

“I’ll die before I let anyone hurt you, Wanda,” Y/n said with all seriousness. “I know you’ve seen me fight back in Acrux. That part of me only had access to my knowledge and not my powers.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed. “You have powers?” Y/n chuckled. “Wrong choice of words but I am force sensitive. I’m a Jedi.” 

“That explains why you have that lightsaber,” Wanda pointed to the lightsaber that was clipped to Y/n’s belt. “Yeah, it’s my preferred choice of weapon but I wasn’t allowed to have it when I was on Acrux.” 

The cockpit’s alarm signaled that they were close to Vernak. “We’ll have to strap in now for landing, but I do have to ask you a favor.” 

“What is it?” Y/n let go of Wanda’s hands and grabbed the blindfold from her pocket. She placed the item into Wanda’s hands. “I need you to trust me and put this on. I’m not binding you or anything, but when we enter Vernak, I need you to be blindfolded for it.” 

“Can I ask why?” Y/n gave a small smile, “I’ll explain more when we land. No more secrets, I promise.” Wanda felt reluctant to follow Y/n’s rules but as they sat back in the cockpit and buckled in, she did as told and blindfolded herself. “No more secrets,” she thought to herself. 

<|>

The ship floated above Y/n’s condo, allowing the two to be teleported into her home. The sensation made Wanda’s stomach queasy as she straightened her posture again. “We’ve arrived. You can take your blindfold off now.” 

Y/n walked away to the kitchen, hungry from the journey. “You must be hungry so I’ll cook us something. Is there anything in particular you want to eat?” 

Wanda removed the blindfold and was stunned by her surroundings. She didn’t know what to expect when it came to her ex-girlfriend’s condo, but it surely wasn’t this. 

There was slick black furniture with brown accents that filled the medium sized condo. Various framed photos were displayed on one wall, the biggest one being a family painted portrait of the Aetos family. A large floor to ceiling bookshelf divided the living room and kitchen. And from what Wanda could tell, many of the books involved war and culture. 

What captured Wanda’s attention the most was the view of the city. Ignoring Y/n’s question, Wanda got up and walked to the window. A spectacular city lay before them. A handful of  skyscrapers were spread around the land. Small buildings stood in between as well as an intricate river that wove around the city. Various foliage hung from the side of the skyscrapers as well as the natural beauty on the ground. 

“What do you think?” Y/n stood by Wanda’s side, her hands behind her back. She couldn’t grasp what was going through Wanda’s head but the fascination in her eyes excited Y/n. 

“I think I’m in a dream.” Wanda followed various sky trams that zoomed through the city. The technological wonders were beyond what she expected. But the view, it was drop dead gorgeous how the sun was casting on Vernak. The place looked like heaven. 

Y/n smiled and looked back at Vernak. The view was something she never grew tired of. More than anything, it was what she dreamed of during her days in Acrux. There were multiple times that Y/n cried silently in her sleep thinking that she would never make it back home. But the thought of never making it back kept her alive. 

“If you’re up for it, we can walk around the block after you’re done eating.” Wanda looked at Y/n, almost forgetting about Pietro. But the weight of it all crumbled. 

Almost falling forward, Wanda hugged Y/n and sobbed into her neck. She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. Everything changed and Wanda feared what was going to happen in her future. But as Y/n held her tightly while rubbing her back, whispering soft affirmations, Wanda knew she was safe. 

<|>

The night came and Wanda cried herself to sleep in Y/n’s arms after confessing the tragedies that happened on Andromeda. From the torture to Pietro’s death, Wanda didn’t leave a single detail out. The amount of pain that Wanda had gone through in such a short amount of time enraged the young Aetos daughter. 

All Y/n could think of was her broken promise to protect Wanda from all harm. Had she fought harder to stay with Wanda would she be in the same predicament? Had she managed a way to tell Wanda about her situation would she still be with Y/n? Had she been quicker to arrive at Andromeda would Pietro still be alive? 

Regardless of the what if’s, Y/n was unable to take Wanda’s pain away. Revenge was something that would come later, that was certain. But for now, Y/n would stay at Wanda’s side, doing anything and everything to take away Wanda’s pain. 

<|>

After a week of being cooped up in Y/n’s condo, Wanda decided today was the day to step out and explore. Although part of her still thought the view was a mere trick, she was learning to trust Y/n again. 

Dressed up in some of Y/n’s clothes, Wanda pushed past her anxiety and walked to the front of the condo where Y/n waited. “You look good.” Something about Wanda being in her clothes made Y/n feral, but the small comment was all she uttered. 

Wanda blushed and grabbed the rain coat hung up in the foyer as a distraction. “I think I have everything.” 

“Great, let’s head out.” As Y/n tried to open the door, Wanda grabbed Y/n’s free hand and intertwined their hands. Y/n looked back, trying not to panic at the gesture. “Don’t let go,” Wanda whispered, feeling vulnerable under Y/n’s gaze.

Not knowing if it was crossing boundaries, Y/n kissed Wanda’s hand in the same way she did back on Acrux. “Never.” 

<|>

“I don’t understand,” Wanda says as she looks around the bustling city. There easily could have been a hundred people just on this street alone. Everyone looked so at ease with life. “You’re not supposed to understand,” Y/n lightly commented. 

Several people walked past them, all acknowledging Y/n. They spoke at such ease that it perplexed Wanda. “Was this the same Aetos her planet feared? Was this an act?” She thought. None of it made any sense. 

Intrigued by one of the market stalls, Wanda let go of Y/n’s hand and walked towards it. The sight of fresh fruit and vegetables made her stomach grumble. “What would you like, miss?” Wanda slightly backed off and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t have any money on me.”

The worker grew confused at her response. “It’s free, ma’am.” Y/n slid to Wanda's side and grabbed two apples, a banana, and a mango . “I think this will be all for us Ethan. Are the crops still looking good in your region?” 

Ethan grabbed the items and placed them into a brown paper bag. 

“There are small issues with the implementation of our water system, but so far it’s been great. The new technology has been helping us be more efficient.” Y/n smiled in delight while grabbing the bag. “That’s good to hear. I’ll try to see if there’s anything I can do when it comes to the new system though. It should have been smooth sailing. But you have a good day now.” 

Y/n grabbed Wanda’s hand once more and looked around the city. There was so much that Y/n had wanted to show Wanda from the art district, business district, and culture district. However, it was only Wanda’s first day out. Not wanting to add to her anxiety, Y/n led Wanda on a small walk through the heart of the city. She gave her an apple and Wanda took in all the new sights. 

“I’m guessing you have questions.” Y/n grabbed the second apple and started to eat. 

“You think? None of this makes sense.” Every story she’d ever heard about the Aetos family was nothing but horror. The planet was to have hosted the worst criminals in the galaxy. So why does it look like a fairytale?  “Follow me. I have the perfect spot to explain everything to you.” 

Y/n led Wanda to the nearest sky tram. “Hold on-,” the tram flew up from the streets, causing Wanda to stumble back a little. Quick with her reflexes, Y/n reached out and grabbed Wanda by her waist. “-they tend to be fast,” Y/n said sheepishly. Wanda held on to the same pole as Y/n.

Soon, they arrived at a floating garden. It was high above the clouds which allowed Wanda to get a good view of the sunset. “Come on. I know a private spot.” Still holding Wanda by the waist, Y/n led them to a familiar spot near the edge of the garden. There was a seat that saw the view of the city below as well as the clouds that sat right on top of it. 

“Welcome to my hideout.” Y/n watched as Wanda looked around awestruck at the view surrounding them. Nearby plants looked to be taken care of yet no caretakers were in sight. “Do you take care of them?” Wanda asked as she touched one of the plants. 

“I try my best. I’ve recently been learning more about herbology and gardening to expand on my skills.” Y/n hadn’t meant to boast but she desperately carved for Wanda’s approval or affirmation. 

“You never told me that you wanted to try learning about plants.” Y/n shrugged. There was more she wanted to tell but was never allowed. “If you have the time, I can tell you everything you ever wanted to know about me.”

Wanda walked towards the seat and beckoned for Y/n to sit beside her. “I want to know first about the history of your planet because where are all the crimes and murderers that I used to hear about.” 

“If I tell you, you must promise not to tell a soul outside this planet. If you were to spread the truth about my home planet, many people could get hurt.” The seriousness in Y/n’s voice struck Wanda’s attention. 

“I promise.” 

“Good. I’m holding you to that Maximoff.” Wanda smiled at the lightness that surrounded Y/n. It was all too different from the stoic nature Y/n had back in Acrux. “Probably was trying her best to stay alive,” Wanda thought. 

“Vernak, as you may have thought it to be home of all murderers, rapists, and thieves was actually home to the very first runaways.” Y/n wiped a hologram into view to showcase a family photo of a father, mother, and two sons. “Dain and Elizabeth Aetos and their sons Cain and Christopher. These are my ancestors.” 

“They’re a beautiful family,” Wanda admired. “Dain was a Jedi Knight while Elizabeth was a senator. In a farther part of the galaxy, these two were not allowed to love due to the rules of being a Jedi Knight.” Y/n swiped to show articles stating that Jedis were not allowed to have any relationship. 

“The goal of any Jedi is to defend and protect. They’re like peacekeepers of the galaxy. If they were to get into relationships, it may lead to biases to protect that individual over another. So when Dain was caught, he fled with his wife to a different part of the galaxy.” 

Y/n showed a map to showcase how far of a journey the Aetos family had to endure to get away from the Jedi counsel. “They landed in Vernak and built a home for themselves. For a while, it was just them four living on an inhabited planet.” 

“One day, Dain had gotten word of another couple that was also in the same predicament as them. While he was scared to leave his family, Elizabeth understood the importance of saving this couple and encouraged him to go. It was a long journey and Dain did get injured from it but thankfully the husband had a medical background.” 

“What would have happened if they were caught?” Y/n looked into Wanda’s eyes and sighed. “Back then it was a different culture, but the Jedi would have been killed for breaking this rule. As for their partner, they typically get banished.”

“Your ancestors knew the consequences of loving each other and still did?” Wanda didn’t mean to appear like she was judging but losing your life over loving someone was a big punishment to possibly face. 

“I would’ve done the same to be with you.” 

There was hope in Y/n’s eyes that Wanda felt the same way still, but when she hadn’t answered, Y/n cleared her throat and continued with the story. “Ever since that day, the Aetos family declared that they would help any people that needed refuge in any type of way. They grew and grew and grew. However, the boys were now in their late 20’s and pointed out that if they continued to rescue people, they would get caught.” 

Y/n swiped to show an updated family photo of the Aetos family and this time, the boys were now grown men with wives in the picture. “On this eventful night in history, the Aetos family forged a plan to fabricate what Vernak was. They sent out loyal soldiers to neighboring planets to spread rumors that Vernak was an evil planet filled with the worst that mankind has ever seen.” 

“It took a long time but people started to believe it. Because of this lie, generations of people taught it to their children and their children and so on. In the meantime, we still rescued many of those that needed it. Vernak was the planet for the forbidden people, the runaways. We vow to protect those in need in the name of love.” 

Wanda took it all in as she watched the sunset go down and stars in the sky appear. “So this whole time, Vernak has been a thriving place full of culture and life? If you have an army, what’s the point of still lying to the galaxy?” 

Y/n sighed, preparing herself for the harsh truth. “We lie to protect our citizens. Some have ancestors that were supposed to have been beheaded had we not stepped in and helped. Others have families that are still hunted to this day. If word gets out that these people are alive, who knows how many soldiers would come to try and defeat us.” 

Y/n held Wanda’s hand, “We lie so that our people can live peacefully.” 

<|>

Two months have passed since Wanda had first arrived in Vernak. In the short amount of time, Wanda had managed to learn more about the planet’s history, army, politics, and culture. One of the biggest differences was obviously the lack of evil that the planet hosted. 

If anything, there was close to zero crime committed on the streets of Vernak. This marveled Wanda even more to learn how their legislation worked. With the help of Y/n, she attended several conferences where bills and laws were passed. 

The lack of arguing or fear mongering almost made Wanda uncomfortable. The palace had too much peace. Even her home planet had its fair share of power hungry people. So to see people work together to achieve the betterment of their people was odd to see. 

Right now, Wanda sat in her room, writing in her journal about the things she learned today when she heard the sound of the front door open. Closing her journal, Wanda walked out to the living room to see Y/n stripping off her royal attire. 

Wanda leaned up against the wall as Y/n sighed from the long day.  “How was your day?” 

Y/n looked up and smiled. “Rough. I had force training and it was more strenuous than usual.” Wanda walked towards Y/n and gave her a small hug.

Things were still unclear on what the two of them were. But having Wanda around was more than enough for Y/n. As for Wanda, she liked that Y/n never pressured her to talk. For now, things were okay. Pulling back from the hug, arms still around Y/n’s neck, Wanda said, “I cooked for you today.” 

Y/n held on to Wanda’s waist, a smirk on her face. “You did? You didn’t have to do that.” 

Wanda poked Y/n’s chest. “Nonsense. Plus, I managed to get the right ingredients. We’re having a proper Fornia dinner tonight. So dress nicely and you need a shower, you stink.”

With a light shove from Wanda, Y/n walked to her room with a laugh. “Yes ma’am.” 

<|>

After cleaning herself up, Y/n walked out her room in an all black attire. The savory aroma of the meal was the first thing Y/n noticed as she walked closer to the dim kitchen.

Once she entered, Y/n was awestruck at the sight of a candle lit dinner. “Woah,” she muttered under her breath. Before she walked any further, Wanda snuck behind Y/n and intertwined their hands. 

“You like?” Y/n looked back, ready to compliment the dinner, but the sight of Wanda in an all black skin tight dress stopped her. It was like everything in the room stopped as she took it all in. Wanda’s hair was curled to perfection and her makeup made Y/n’s heart leap. 

Mouth agape, Y/n took a step back, spun Wanda around. “I don’t think there’s enough words to describe how beautiful you are Wanda.” 

Wanda was thankful for the dim lights as she blushed under Y/n’s gaze. “I’d say you look handsome tonight.” Y/n led Wanda to her seat and helped push her in. 

“This looks so amazing Wanda. I can’t wait to eat it.” Y/n sat on the other side ready to dig in but Wanda’s longing gaze stopped her. “Are you okay Wands?” 

“I want to say something and you can’t interrupt me, okay?” Y/n shook her head in understandment. Wanda shook her nerves away as she reached out once again to hold Y/n’s hand. Meeting her half, Y/n held Wanda’s hand, giving her a comforting squeeze. 

“I first want to thank you for being here for me. These past two months have been such a whirlwind and having you here with me has been such a relief.” Wanda started to tear up, feeling her emotions get the best of her. 

“I know you must wonder what I’ve been wanting to do or what my plan for the future is and for the first month, I honestly didn’t know what I wanted.”  Wiping away a fallen tear, Wanda continued. “But living here in Vernak with you. It’s given me something to look forward to.” 

Y/n smiled softly. She gave Wanda another gentle squeeze knowing the girl had more to say. “I thought that my life was over the moment I landed in Acrux. But life led me to you. And suddenly, it felt like my life finally started.” 

“I know we don’t talk enough about my decision to leave you but I do want to say I’m so sorry.” The moment replayed in both of their heads and all Wanda could feel was regret. “I should’ve heard you out but instead I left.” 

“Wanda, darling, I don’t blame you for leaving.” The sympathetic look on Y/n’s face broke Wanda’s heart. Here she was apologizing but entirely, there was nothing to apologize for. Y/n always understood Wanda’s decision to leave. “You chose based on information we purposely crafted for generations. There was no way you could have known the truth about Vernak.” 

Wanda continued to cry at Y/n’s generosity, feeling even more guilty on her decision to leave. Hating the sight of Wanda crying, Y/n got up and squatted in front of her. She cupped her face and wiped the tears away. “I wish I never left you.” 

Y/n’s heart dropped at the whispered confession. This was the first time that Wanda had remotely ever admitted anything like that. In turn, Y/n admitted, “I wish I stayed.” 

Vulnerability was something Y/n was hardly taught to give. It could lead to death, abandonment, or betrayal. But every single time Y/n chose to be vulnerable, it was for Wanda and no one else. 

“Do you think…” Wanda looked into Y/n’s eyes as she choked back her tears, “...if I were to ask for another chance…what would you say?” 

Y/n thought about it for a moment before saying, “I’d give you a thousand chances if it meant to be with you again.” 

Unable to hold herself back, Wanda leaned in for a kiss, hoping that Y/n could feel just how much she missed her. Hoping that it would be enough to apologize for all the countless lies she believed in. Hoping that she can prove to Y/n once more that she’d never leave again. 

And as Y/n deepened the kiss, tasting Wanda’s tears, she prayed that the only girl she’s ever loved will understand that no matter what, she will always choose her.

<|>

Evil was something Wanda hardly associated Y/n with. After a year of living on Vernak, she could only see the good Y/n and her family have done for the people. So when Y/n came home from a rough day at the palace, Wanda’s love changed. 

She sat at their shared bed when she heard the front door open and close. “I’m over here dekta!” It took Y/n a long time to get to their bedroom, a long look was on her face when she arrived. 

Immediately noticing that something was wrong, Wanda closed her book and opened her arms. With no words, Y/n fell into Wanda’s arms. The feeling of being with her instantly relaxed the young Aetos. 

For a while, the two laid in bed, tangled in each other's arms before Y/n spoke up. “Something happened today and I…I don’t know how to handle it.” 

Wanda ran her hand through Y/n’s hair, trying her best to comfort her girlfriend. She pressed a small kiss on Y/n’s temple before saying, “You can tell me dekta. I’m all ears.” 

Y/n sighed, not knowing where to even start. “There was intel that came to the palace about a bounty hunter that managed to torture information about Vernak.” 

“We managed to get our hands on them but…” Y/n grimaced as she remembered. “...we had to kill them as well as the rest of the bounty hunters that they told.” Wanda could feel Y/n start to cry. 

“I know death is something I’m used to but these people were different. They were hired for all the wrong reasons in order to make ends meet. Many of them had families and now they’re probably waiting for them to come home.” 

Y/n slowly sat up as she wiped her own tears. Wanda followed suit and sat on Y/n’s lap. “I just- I hate the tough decisions we have to make. When things don’t feel as black and white, it makes me wonder if what we’re doing is good.” 

Y/n looked into Wanda’s eyes with fear. “It makes me wonder if I’m good enough for you.” 

Wanda frowned at the confession. “Don’t ever question that. There’s nothing in this world that will ever make me think that you’re not good enough for me.” Wanda gave Y/n a quick kiss, hoping to take away some of the pain her girlfriend was feeling. “Everything you do is to protect me and your people. There’s not a single day where I ever felt like you hurted people just to hurt. You and your family make the hard decisions in order for us to be safe.” 

“What if I told you we were evil?” Wanda looked at Y/n confused. 

“Dekta, we’ve been over this. Your family being evil is a lie.” Y/n almost felt guilty for how much Wanda cared for her. For if she were to see all the decisions being made, would she still stay? 

Y/n looked away, unable to meet Wanda’s eyes. “They unveiled today the final secret…our family has a long list of people turning to the dark side in order to make sure our country is protected. Even my father has admitted to tapping into that side of the force.” 

Y/n clenched her eyes, unable to forget the moment that electricity came out of her father’s hands. “The red lightsaber was one thing but having the powers of the dark side is another. I fear that if I’m not strong enough, I’ll succumb to the thoughts of the dark side.” 

“...I fear to be the person you hate.” 

Silence surrounded the room as Wanda stayed in deep thought. There were so many questions in her head but as Y/n slowly looked up, Wanda knew what to say. 

“Fear has controlled me before and it led me away from you. So listen when I say this, do not let fear make you believe that you will be destined for evil. The dark side is powerful but so are the emotions they feel. And as long as I’m here, I will never let evil succumb to you.”

Wiping away the remainder of her tears, Wanda finished with, “You are destined to be a great leader my love. Evil may linger in your genes but your heart shows me everything I need to know. And I will love you enough for the both of us to make you see that you are good.” 

Leaning in for one more kiss, Wanda would never call Y/n evil. 

<|>

Wanda and Y/n were 25 the night before their wedding. 

Wanda was looking out the balcony when she heard a knock at her door. It was close to midnight. “No one should be up,” she thought. The hologram displayed Y/n’s image and Wanda immediately opened the door. “What are you doing? You know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.” 

Y/n chuckled at the superstition and entered anyway. “I wanted to see you. Today has been long without you.” Y/n jumped onto the bed, feeling exhausted. Wanda followed suit as she dimmed the lighting in the room. 

They got under the covers and laid next to each other. Face to face, Wanda asked, “I know something’s troubling you.” Y/n still had her eyes closed when she responded with, “And how do you know that my love?” 

“I have a gut feeling. Or maybe the force has connected us.” The thought was sincere. What if they were fated soulmates? “Plus, anytime I’m wide awake this late at night, you always seem to be in distress. So tell me what’s wrong dekta.”

Y/n sighed and snuggled into Wanda’s neck. Wanda started to play with Y/n’s hair, waiting for her to talk. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us…and I wanted to tell you something.” Y/n sat up, leaning on her arm for support as Wanda remained lying down on the bed. 

They held hands as Y/n added, “Loving me is hard.” Wanda frowned at the statement. “It’s something I’ve thought about a lot. And sometimes I doubt if this is the right path for you.” Feeling Y/n’s insecurities rise, Wanda sat up and cupped Y/n’s cheeks. “You are my path Y/n. There’s no doubt about that.” 

“You say that but tomorrow is our wedding. There’s no going back after that. You’re going to be stuck with me forever.” 

“You act as if that’s such a bad thing dekta.” Y/n sighed not knowing how to formulate her thoughts. “I chose you when I came back to you. I chose you again when I said yes to engaging you. And I will say yes once more tomorrow to have forever with you.” Wanda kissed Y/n long and hard. It almost made Y/n forget about her worries. 

Y/n rubbed Wanda’s arms hoping her thoughts wouldn’t sound too jumbled. “Choosing me then is different compared to choosing me tomorrow.” Y/n looked into Wanda’s eyes with all seriousness and declared, “If you choose to love me, you will love the very person this whole galaxy will be known to hate. The very sound of my name will not only bring assassins to kill me but armies to destroy me.” Y/n invaded Wanda’s space inch by inch. Tension building in their eyes and body. “If you choose me,” barely any space was between them now, “you will be with the person that will bring generations of families to death as the galaxy will go through its darkest times with me.” 

Evil lingered in Y/n’s eyes. The very eyes that Wanda had fallen for.

“If you choose me,” swallowing her pride, Y/n confessed, “they will hate you.” There was no going back, but Wanda was a smart girl. She knew the consequences of falling for an Aetos, yet there was always part of her that willingly went back each time. Like a drug, she couldn’t quit. 

What does it mean to fall in love with the person everyone hates? It meant seeing them for something else. A different side only special to you. It meant power beyond their control just to make sure you were safe. It meant that they would choose you versus the world every - single - time. 

“Do you choose me?” There was no pause, no hesitation when Wanda replied. Her heart and mind were already set ages ago. 

“...I do.”

<|>

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[sulkybender]

for a moment the world turns gold

or: a fanfic I am posting on Tumblr for some reason

tags: time travel loop as metaphor for growing up abused, canon-typical child abuse, Zuko needs a hug, Zuko needs a boat, hurt/comfort, hurt Zuko

The first time he wakes up with his old face he thinks it was all a dream, everything that came before. It was a nightmare about the way things could have gone, and a warning, and Zuko takes it to heart.

In the war room he says nothing, and when it ends his father pulls him aside.

His silence, Ozai says, was weakness.

And then he burns Zuko’s face.

—

The next time he wakes up, he feels at his face, gasping. It’s all clean skin, good skin. And he speaks with authority at the war meeting, and his father pulls him aside.

He had no right to speak, Ozai says. He is a child.

And Zuko burns.

—

When Zuko wakes up again he panics. He stays in bed for a long time, longer than he should, trying to breathe.

He remembers the feeling of his father’s hand covering his face, the heat and sting of it, then white-hot pain and then much less, as his nerves died.

And he shakes in bed, crying, and when his father drags him out and asks why he slept through the war meeting, Zuko can’t tell him the truth, because the truth is so much worse.

He didn’t sleep. He cowered.

And Ozai burns his face.

—

The next time he wakes up he goes to find his uncle, to ask for help.

He tries to stay calm, to sound like himself, even though he’s beginning to doubt he knows what that means anymore. He woke up this morning with a nervous tic, a tremor all down his leg.

“Please,” he says. “Please, Uncle. You have to help me. I can’t go to the war meeting.”

“Prince Zuko,” his uncle says. “Backing out of your duties only hours before is shameful behavior. You have made a commitment to the Fire Lord. And I put in my own word for you, you wanted so badly to attend.”

“Uncle,” he says, and his eyes burn so badly that he thinks it’s starting now. “Uncle, please.”

And he sits through the meeting, crying, and his father burns his face.

—

This time he pretends to be sick. He answers with the most wretched cough you can imagine when his uncle comes calling his name.

There’s the coolness of Uncle’s hand on his cheek, the softness of his disappointment. He knows, and shame is like ash in Zuko’s throat.

“Next time, perhaps,” his uncle says. “When you’re better.”

Yes, Zuko thinks, sick with relief. Yes, when he’s not the pathetic person he is now; when he’s braver, stronger, deserving of love. Better.

And his father drags him from bed by his hair, hissing about weakness, his weak and useless child.

Zuko doesn’t disagree.

And his father burns his face.

—

He speaks up again, because he knows what’s coming. His father tells him to rise and fight, and he rises, he fights.

The flood of fire he can’t break, seething, billowing in waves. For a moment the world turns gold. He could live in the heat of it forever.

The world is really very beautiful, even as it tries to dissolve you.

Then he feels the skin of his forearms blister and peel, and his father grabs his arms, twisting them. His vision goes white.

He falls to the ground, and burns.

—

He speaks up again, because he’s angry. He’s angry with his father; he’s angry with himself.

He’s trapped and he’s angry, and he hates what’s being done to these men, because it’s the eighth time he’s seen the generals discuss it openly and plainly, with such pleasure. And no one’s ever stood up for him, and someone should stand up for the people no one’s ever stood up for, and he knows, he knows, that if he’s forceful enough, compelling enough, his father will respect him.

What his father respects is strength. Zuko can be strong.

He speaks out, feeling the tremor in his leg, but it’s a tremor of excitement now, not just fear. He knows the right thing to do and he knows how to do it—the thing he’s never known, not just the force of his ideas but a shape—and he gives his speech with the kind of moral clarity that will make his father proud.

And his father burns his face.

—

The next time Zuko wakes up he stares at the ceiling for a very long time.

Then he goes down to the war room and his father burns his face.

—

The next days are like this, and the next.

—

After a while, waking up whole becomes more painful, almost, than being burned.

When he wakes up with his clean face, his good face. It means his suffering didn’t matter. He wants it to matter. If it has to happen, he needs it to matter.

He wakes up with his clean face, his mother’s face, and thinks she wouldn’t recognize the person he’s becoming.

—

The last time Zuko sits in the war room, he thinks he’s going to lose his mind. He thinks he already has. The flames behind the Fire Lord’s throne lick and curl, shifting colors, and for a moment Zuko is too dizzy to stand. He could fall into that gold again, the loveliness of the world as it eats you.

But he does stand. And he gives the speech, not because he wants to get it over with or because he thinks his father will love him if he just gets it right, but because he’s accepted his father will never love him. That whatever he does he will always be burned. In a thousand worlds, a thousand lifetimes, there is no outcome in which his father does not burn his face.

And as he thinks about this, small hands clenching in his robes, he tries to imagine what it would be like to be his own person for the first time—not his father’s tool, not his sister’s.

“I’m not afraid,” he tells the generals, his father. “Whatever you do to me I’m not afraid.”

And he wakes up on a boat, face singing with pain, and his uncle holding his hand.

[hey-august]

Hi hii

Do you also write angst?

If so...I'm genuinely curious on what's your take if Buggy's partner was severely injured and in the verge of death in his arms.

Don't mind me,,just craving a freshly baked Buggy angst 🤡

-soupsprout

Ahhhh, sorry this took a bit!

I love angst, but I've only ever written relationship-angst. Like poor communication skills or intense self-loathing.

This was a fun one to try! Fun and painful! I kinda hurt now! 🥲 I hope it hits the spot for you, @soupsprout

The ending is ambiguous and there isn't comfort because I like the pain, but I have an idea for an uplifting ending and one for a painful ending. LMK if you're interested in hearing about either 😉

WC: ~900 Warnings: NSFW - grievous injury & blood, Buggy x GN!reader, established relationship, angst no comfort

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Injuries are inevitable during a fight, and this was a fucking ambush. The crew was bound to collect new wounds and scars when they started at a disadvantage. But when shit hits the fan, they’re relentless. This time, that was a bad fucking trait.

As the din diminished and the ship drifted into eerie post-battle quiet, Buggy found you sitting against a wall. The crewmates you fought alongside were also in various states of reprieve. Leaning on crates, crouching on the ground, some even laying down as they caught their breaths. But none of them were sitting in a growing puddle of blood. None of them looked as ashen as you did. The sticky red hand squeezing your leg told the story.

Ripping his bandana off his head, Buggy sprinted over to you and kneeled on the dirty ground. He peeled your hand back, exposing the gash. This was real bad. The placement was bad. The depth was bad. He could see the surge of blood come and go, following your heartbeats. Biting the hem of his bandana, Buggy tore it into strips and wound them just above the wound. Tight but not too tight - he remembered that much.

You winced as he tied a knot and tried to push his hands away. Adrenaline dulled the pain from the original wound, but all this extra shit was too much.

“Stop,” you whined, smearing blood from your hand to his wrist. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Just a little more, okay?”

“Don’t, Buggy…it hurts enough, just leave it.” 

“Fuck, no! Listen, we need to stop the bleeding. I have to…” 

Buggy didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to pack the wound and it was not going to be pleasant. It had been years since he had to dress a wound like this. He didn’t have to do this for himself since eating the goddamn Devil Fruit and his crew had a doctor to tend to the others. Right, a doctor!

Dragging the closest crew member over by the collar of their shirt, Buggy started shouting, “YOU! Go get the doctor, get a medic, fuck - just go get someone! Get fucking Mohji!”

The pirate scrambled to their feet and yanked another mate up to join him in a search for help.

“Mohji?” you repeated with a soft laugh.

“He can help. He takes care of Richie, maybe he knows-”

“I’m not a lion, Buggy. It’s not the same.” 

Your over-dramatic condescending tone could have fooled the pirate into believing you were okay if your voice didn’t shake. If you weren’t talking more with your eyes shut than open. If you hadn’t lost enough blood that it was seeping into the knees of his pants.

“I dunno, you’re as annoying as Richie.” 

You smiled but didn’t respond. 

Buggy glanced around the room, which was nearly empty. The only ones left were the ambushers who didn’t survive and anyone who couldn’t run through the ship. No one had come back with any fucking help, though. 

“Hey, keep your eyes open,” Buggy said, squeezing your cheeks. 

You did what he asked, but it took a few tries. Your eyes fluttered shut more than once before you succeeded in keeping them open.

“M’tired, Buggy,” you said in a low voice. A sad voice. A scared voice.

“You can sleep later. I’ll even let you sleep on my side of the bed, okay? Just stay awake for now. Captain’s orders!”

Another smile, softer than the last one. Even Buggy could hear the desperation cracking in his throat.

“I have to do one more thing to stop the bleeding, alright? It’ll hurt and then you’ll feel better. Take a deep breath for me, okay? You can do that?”

You nodded and inhaled. It was slow and stuttering as you tried to take in as much air as you could. Buggy waited until you were too focused on breathing before jamming a wad of torn fabric into the leaking wound. He winced as you let out a loud groan and your whole body stiffened in pain.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m all done. You did so good.” 

Buggy rushed to comfort you, pressing kisses to your forehead and wiping away the tears falling from your eyes with the back of his hands. Blood didn’t make him nauseous, but the sight of his palms stained red with yours did. Nauseous and nervous.

Your eyes were closed again. He asked you to open them. He asked again. They cracked open just a little. Enough to make him feel better and feel worse.

“Hey, what do you call a lion at the South Pole?”

“What?” Your head tilted and your brows tightened. You were thinking.

Buggy watched your lips move slowly as you repeated his question.

You opened your eyes a little wider and looked at him with as much confusion as you could muster. You shook your head slightly. 

“Oh, you don’t know?” he teased with a big grin. A fake smile to keep you distracted. “Keep thinking about it. If you just can���t figure it out, I’ll tell you when you get better. Alright?”

You mouthed an affirmative response, but didn’t make a sound.

“So it’s a deal? You’ll get better and then I’ll tell you the answer. You gotta get better, though, okay?” 

Buggy grabbed your hands, hoping you couldn’t feel how he was shaking. He wished he couldn’t feel how cold you were.

You nodded and closed your eyes to think.

[acetheripper]

I'm making this post, cuz I'm not sure I've seen someone else do it and if I have to suffer, so do you.

This is based on an idea I had listening to a CORPSE screaming edit of Michelle. It got me thinking of Ghost and Soap being captured by Malkovich from a fuck up and Soap is being interrogated and of course the snarky bastard isn't letting anything out, but Malkovich quickly let's Soap know he's torturing Ghost, so Soap calls him out on his shit and just... Here take this.

TW: Torture

.

Soap let out a grunt of pain as he was punched in the face, his head swinging to the side from the impact and he just laughed, grinning at the spy and spitting the blood in his mouth on the floor, turning back to them and grinning cheekily.

"That the best ya got?" He laughed. Malkovich stared at Soap before chuckling.

"MacTavish... Of course not... I have something much worse... Your Lieutenant... Ghost." He chuckled, taking a step closer and Soap scoffed, grinning at the Russian and spitting more blood out. "You'll hear his tortured screams soon enough if you don't tell us what we want to know..."

"You ain't strong enough to take down the Ghost... And even if you did, he wouldn't scream from anything you could do... That's how the Ghost is..." He chuckled, grinning at Malkovich like an idiot. Malkovich didn't get angry and he didn't seem phased. His smile just got bigger and he nodded slowly, like he was accepting something. A pit opened in Soap's stomach that the man might not actually be bluffing, but he tried not to show it.

"Keep that same energy MacTavish..." He chuckled, walking over to a door nearby and knocking on it two timss. Soap stared at Malkovich and kept a blank face, grinning a bit at no sound until there was a shrill scream of pain that sounded like a man and Soap's throat closed, his eyes widening a bit at the sound and glancing at the door and then back to Malkovich, his breathing getting labored. He thought it was just a fluke of some kind until another scream came out and this time, Soap knew it wasn't fake, hearing the distinct deep, gravel sound of Ghost's voice in those screams.

Soap's face was dark and he was struggling to keep his composure, his whole body shaking as he heard Ghost screaming in pain while Malkovich looked over at Soap and grinned at the distress the man was in. In the entire time they've worked together or even dated, Soap had never heard such agonizing screams from his LT, let alone in the way Ghost was screaming. The man was silent and hardly showed he was in pain, so hearing such gut-wrenching screams made Soap terrified and full of malice towards Malkovich standing in front of him. His breathing was heavy and he was glaring at the Russian, turning his head away and shuddering at the screams until he heard Ghost go silent and Soap's heart dropped. He looked over to the door and shivered, glancing down and trying to keep his composure.

"LT, how copy?" He called out, shutting his eyes. There was silence from the other side and Soap's heart started to race from the thought of worst possible outcome. "Ghost, how copy!?" He cried, glancing at the door, clenching his fists from his bindings and trying to break them free. He was still met with silence and Soap's breathing got faster and more labored. "Ghost!" He yelled, looking at the door before hanging his head and shutting his eyes tightly, feeling tears form at the corner of his eyes as he was terrified that the man he loved was dead because of their fuck up. "Simon!!!" He cried, his voice cracking as he choked back a sob. There was silence a bit longer before there was a soft grunt and Soap slowly looked at the door.

".... Solid..." Came the soft grunt, shifting from the room and Soap damn near let out a loud sigh of relief at Ghost's return call, hanging his head again before looking up at Malkovich and glaring horribly at him, all his anger and malice poured into one look.

"I'm gonna kill ya..." He growled out and the Russian just chuckled.

"Keep that energy, MacTavish... You're gonna need it..." He said with a chuckle, leaving the room and enveloping the room in darkeness as Soap wondered just how bad they hurt Ghost.

.

If this gets enough traction and love, I'll expand it more and make it into a Fanfic ^^

[fluideli123]

Sonadow Fic Rec

Okay, before you jump down to the masterpieces listed below, I just wanted to state this:

These authors have given this phenomenal content for free, baked with time and effort. I have never once ignored this, hence why I try and comment on each and every one of these fics. However, my energy and ability to be verbose differs day to day. Some of these fics I have not given proper comments for, despite this, I will be on it the moment I can be. In the time being, (once I am able to find my comments on each of these fics) I will be sharing my adoration for them further in other posts (and most likely link back to this one).

With that being said, please, PLEASE take your time to check each of these fics out. If they're not your cup of tea? Valid! But hands down I have never dedicated myself to making a fic rec like this until now. But I MUST share and spread these works, they are much too dear to me not to, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

(All fics are listed by order saved in my bookmarks, not in the order read)

tangled threads and bite-marked shoulders by @rubyiiiusions

Words: 32,287 | Series | Complete

Shadow hissed in pain. The laser had just grazed him, but it still stung, and he instinctively gripped the wound it left on his arm. “You dare-” He stopped. The laser hadn’t hit him. In fact, it had struck Sonic, right on his lower left arm. So why did his forearm feel like it just got shot? He whipped around, fear climbing up his throat, and he suddenly became hyper-aware of something new. It was like a sixth sense, feeling the confusion that emitted from Sonic’s fur in waves as if it was his own. “What did you do?!” Shadow snarled. or, eggman accidentally soulbinds shadow and sonic, and no one has any idea how to undo it.

Sleepwalking by Tirainy

Words: 22,117 | Complete

'There is a strong arm curled around his torso, the appendage keeping him close to its owner, whose warm breath is ghosting over the back of his neck. Sonic is sure he went to bed alone the previous night, but he isn't worried about the intruder. After all, this isn't the first time this has happened…'

Secret Admirer by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 24,313 | Complete

Sonic understood well what it meant to be loved. He was a world-famous hero, after all; his presence never went unnoticed. For the most part, he lavished in that attention, he soaked it in and encouraged it. But not romantic attention. So, when the blue blur found himself falling in love? Well, the prospect was rather daunting, no matter how easy Amy had made it out to be. So maybe, just maybe, he should just take the easy way out...

Rose Drops Series by @magicstormfrostfire

Words: 122,489 | Series | Complete

Love, Intuition, and a little bit of magic ensues as Amy sends Sonic and Shadow on an unforgettable adventure.

Wolfboy by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 73,856 | Complete

World-famous monster hunter Shadow the Hedgehog has a job to do. It doesn't take long for the one-shot wonder to realize that this job won't be as simple as he'd expected: a small town, rumors of a lone werewolf, and a handsome, green-eyed, chronically-injured casanova who manages to worm his way into Shadow's heart... What starts off as a simple job turns out to be something much more life-changing.

Blizzard Bedfellows by @magicstormfrostfire

Words: 21,294 | Complete

When a rare blizzard takes over the island, Sonic is on the run to make sure a certain angry loner is safe and sound. Y-you know, because...uh that's what heroes do.

We never met but can we have a cup of coffee or something? by @whitejungle

Words: 3,630 | Complete

It's been almost two months since Sonic lost someone he didn't even know, but he can't stop thinking about it.

Clean Slate by nottheweirdest

Words: 155,880 | Complete | Note: Squeal pending and I am cheering you on author!! Whatever you decide I am excited to support you!!

Shadow has lost himself before. He knows what it's like to straddle the line between reality and false memories, but this time, it’s Sonic whose memory has vanished. A premeditated set of circumstances and an accidental injury leave Sonic with no memory of who he is, his life, or more importantly, his painful history with Shadow. It’s up to Shadow to remind the hero who he is in the midst of a global outbreak. It’s a chance for redemption. It’s a chance to right the wrongs of the past. It’s a clean slate.

say i reckon (i love you, for a millisecond) by @redamancering

Words: 30,205 | Complete

There’s a hand on his shoulder, barely making contact. A red gauntlet glows around the wrist. Sonic blinks, the pain having evaporated so fast he feels almost weightless. “Shadow?” Shadow’s breathing heavily. “Problem.” The retrieval of the ancient tech Shadow (and Sonic, in tow) has been sent to uncover takes a turn for the worst. In this case, the “worst” means… becoming physically and inextricably linked to each other. For the foreseeable future. OR: Metaphysical handcuffs, and general gay buffoonery.

Judge my sins, not my feelings by yellothebeeloved

Words: 228,479 | Complete | Note: Possible one-shots pending from the author for the series, I am here to support you author!! What ever you decide I'm here for it!

Maybe he's not meant to touch. It's the newest excuse he thought of in hopes that he could prolong the game a little more; a careful ruse to enjoy the bittersweet torture of seeing the days pass them by, while he pretends he doesn't seek azure blue whenever he's restless. At first, all he wanted to do was watch: but now the desire to touch, to have, to affect is at a point where he's not sure whether reaching for Sonic would truly be fruitless. He wonders that especially when Sonic's eyes light up upon seeing him. When he corners Shadow, when he invades his space and he touches and takes and then excuses it by calling it a fight. Shadow truly wonders then: if only he was brave enough to reach out, what would his grip find? Loose stars or a battle-worn body? Standing up, he glances at Sonic again, whose eyes have now met his own. There's something heavy in the eye contact, something Shadow doesn't dare name. Neither of them say anything, and yet Sonic's eyes move away from him again, like they did. Shadow warps away, hiding from the stars once more.

Child of Prophecy by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 139,321 | Completed

On the night the Mobius Castle was ransacked, the Queen received a prophecy. “One of three will not cry; send him down the river, for you can only save your kingdom if he does not grow up royal.”

Coming Home by nottheweirdest

Words: 55,740 | Completed

Shadow's life has been full of mistakes, some worse than others, but admitting his unrequited feelings to Sonic tops the list. He's spent the better part of a decade ruminating on his regret and hiding from feelings he couldn't bear to face. He never thought he'd see Sonic again, and he told himself that was for the best. Until now. At the bequest of his former rival, and in an attempt to finally get closure, Shadow has returned to Central City. The reason? Sonic the Hedgehog is marrying Amy Rose. And Shadow is invited.

[yourlocalrandombisexual]

alright so i’ve been seeing the watcher posts and gathering my thoughts so i’m gonna put all my watcher stuff in one big post under the cut cause it’s gonna get long and i need to get this out of my head.

i will say 99% of the fandom was expecting a fun, exciting, omg can’t wait for it type of announcement and seeing the title and thumb nail for the first time made me really nervous.

also, side note, why on earth would they choose a thumbnail of the three of them sitting on a couch like that with the title “goodbye youtube”?? just the imagery alone makes you think of the try guys and their now infamous video like why would you want that comparison right out the gate before you even say anything?? super weird choice.

then the video is all nostalgic and wistful, clips of steven’s, ryan’s, and shane’s, pre-buzzfeed youtube videos and i’m thinking “did someone die cause this feels like a video obit” none of this calmed my nerves and made me more anxious about what could be coming. and then we all know what happened next, they announce that they’re paywalling everything yada yada yada

and after seeing everyone else’s takes and the general vibe of the fandom being “fuck watcher” it continues to baffle me why they thought this was gonna go over well. because to me it feels like they went from “yay we have our own youtube channel” to “give us your cash we’re a media empire” and missed A LOT of steps in between.

and i dunno maybe watcher did try to change things and tweak their business model and things weren’t getting better but as a fan and someone who watches a lot of different youtubers you kinda see this one coming. like creators drop little crumbs beforehand to gauge how people will take it or they try weird series/shows that have like 3 episodes to see what their audience is more interested in. there are a signs as a fan you can see but i think one of the reasons this went so badly for watcher is because it was so far out of left field. there was never a hint that the youtube model wasn’t working for them.

but again maybe they did try x, y, and z without it working or being transparent about it and if they were trying things why not lean into that to garner compassion from fans? we all know the youtube algorithm sucks and if they had started the video talking about the things they tried and how nothing was working and how much it sucked to leave youtube i think people would’ve understood. then they could’ve had shane talk about how subscriptions suck and there are too many of them and they tried to find another solution but couldn’t. now not only do i have sympathy for what there going through i had my feelings validated. then they could’ve gone into why this is better and what i’m going to get out of it as a consumer.

like it’s not that hard. but instead the vibe i got from them was a real palpable relief that they were leaving youtube which felt like a slap in the face.

and while i don’t agree with the steven bashing at all i do think it’s a little bit funny that they kinda dug themselves into that hole with their end of the year behind the scenes video they put out last fall. they really painted steven as a genius ceo while ryan and shane are just on screen talent. so while i feel for what steven is going through they kinda put themselves in that position.

all of this to say that it doesn’t feel like they hired anyone to field this idea by or do any kind of market research at all and the vibe that i’ve always kinda gotten from watcher is one where they want to jump over the messiness and growing pains of being a new small business and be established. be this huge force a la dropout/college humor without putting in the time to get there. and i do think watcher showed it’s true colors here where they only think of fans as cash cows they can deposit whenever.

and just the arrogance of thinking their fans will follow them to a subscription and trying to spin it as it being the same thing as leaving buzzfeed drives me up the wall. it’s not the same.

anyway i think that’s it. if i think of anything else ill edit this post ✌️

[tommykinard6]

I love your headcanons!

Why do you think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex and how does that show?

Also do you have any more ideas about the emergency contact one? Like the first time they get a call from the hospital...

Yessss thank you so much for asking about those headcanons! I’ve been wanting to talk about these.

I actually just got another ask about the emergency contact and I’m going to go super in depth for that, so stay tuned!

But why do I think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex? I’m so, so glad you asked. This is one of my biggest headcanons.

However! Please read with caution. TW: for a form of self h*rm involving sex, self hatred, and internalized homophobia.

Tommy was extremely closeted for most of his life. When he was at the 118, he couldn’t even accept himself. But at some point, he stopped being able to ignore it. For me, this might be when he realized he liked Sal (see my other post).

Now for some people, exploring your sexuality includes a *ahem* wild phase. To me, Tommy had two parts of this phase. The first one was…not great.

Tommy was a self loathing closeted man. He hated himself for being gay. He wanted to be “normal”. So when he stopped being able to ignore it, he thought he could “get it out of his system”. So he went to bars outside of LA (he wasn’t risking bumping into anyone he knew) and hooked up with any man who showed interest. He wasn’t picky. He was just more focused on getting out of this “phase”.

So he hooked up with a lot of men. And he didn’t care about himself at all. In fact, he out right hated himself every time. So it devolved. If something didn’t feel good, Tommy leaned into it because he saw it as punishment. He used sex to punish himself and to hurt himself.

I’m not quite sure about how he pulled himself out of it, but we’ll go with this. My idea is that he had a sexual partner who caught onto what was going on, that Tommy secretly hated something happening but refused to stop on his own. The partner shut down the event and when he called out, gently, Tommy on what was happening, Tommy broke down. The partner held him and listened to his garbled story and talked him through it. Instead of the hookup, they spent that night just talking, with the partner trying to get Tommy to see what was happening and get him out of the slump.

And it didn’t fix it. Tommy continued this pattern for a couple more hookups, but he started to get discontented and uncomfortable. Around this time maybe, the 118 got Bobby Nash and the dynamic started changing. Sal was gone and working with Hen, an openly queer firefighter, started to shift how he looked at himself.

So Tommy stopped the hookups and started working on himself. He couldn’t quite face himself still, but he worked on liking himself outside of his sexuality. He started laying down boundaries when he hooked up. And then he left the 118 and started therapy. He was ready to start over. He was tired of the pain and the self hate and the cycle he’d been stuck in for so long. He wanted what he’d seen others have. He saw Hen with her wife and he wanted a bond like that and he knew it could never be with a woman.

Skip forward all this time and he’s learned to be gentle with himself. He finally loves himself. He has embraced his sexuality. Maybe he’s still friendly with that past partner or maybe they never spoke again, idk. He’s had some relationships but nothing’s really stuck. Then he meets Evan Buckley.

He meets Evan Buckley and he feels the sun for the first time. And Evan is still figuring himself out and Tommy not only really likes him, but also wants to make sure Evan doesn’t make the same mistakes he did.

Does that answer the question? Let me sum it up.

Tommy used sex to punish himself and those were his first real experiences with guys. So even now, in healthier relationships and with better mindsets, he doesn’t do the hookup game anymore and is very shy of having sex too soon. He doesn’t have sex without knowing and trusting the person.

Y’all I have no idea if this made sense, but this is literally the premise of a story in my brain.

[danikamariewrites]

𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Chapter One : Welcome Home

A/n: sorry for the very long wait between chapters but I think that’s how it will go with this series. I really want to take my time and make sure I like each chapter before posting and I hope you guys like this one too.

Warnings: mention of trauma and abuse

For forty-nine years the Forest House felt empty. But one bright afternoon the house miraculously felt full again. You have no idea how you knew the others returned. Something in your mind was screaming at you. Telling you that something changed. Urging you to look at the chaos.

Lady Briar raced to your room to tell you the good news. She was practically out of breath as she attempted to formally explain that your father and other members of the court had finally returned home. You broke down in joyful tears. Your father was home!

Nothing held your focus all day as you waited for him. No sketches or paintings. None of your books. You just paced your bedroom, even during meals.

By the time the sun had set you were on edge, wondering when he’d come to see you. When your father finally came to you he burst into tears upon staring at you. The first words out of his mouth were, “Look at you. My little flame, all grown up.” Those words hit you like a ton of bricks. The dam of your tears broke at the pain behind his words as you both silently mourned the time you’ve lost.

You threw yourself at your father. Wrapping your arms around his neck tight, like he’d be taken from you again.

Something was wrong. You knew it as soon as you made contact with him. His scent. His mental walls. Something terrible had happened to him. Discreetly probing your father’s mind you found a hole in his defenses that you could slip through. Pulling closer to him with the ruse of a longer embrace you dove into your father’s mind.

As you began your search an excruciating chill gripped your mind. You saw everything and it was horrifying. Years of death and destruction and cruelty. Then, five boys, all older than you, standing by father’s side. Expect the one with longer hair. He was clearly estranged from your family. A woman standing with them who you’re the spitting image of. Her red hair and freckles are the ones you see in the mirror everyday. The seven High Lords. A human girl beating the evil queen. Everyone freed.

It took all your strength to not scream as the images flashed quickly. To not push your father away from you. You had a hunch he had been lying to you, but not like this. The longer you held onto the male your skin felt like it was on fire.

Beron let go of you, holding you by your shoulders to take you in. “Gods,” He whispered with a wide grin, “look at you. I’m so sorry I left you, little flame. I promise you I will make up for all the time we missed together.” Beron caressed your cheek. It took all of your strength not to flinch away from his burning touch.

“I know you will, father. Can you stay for a bit longer?” You slightly plead like a child would. “Not much longer, little flame. There’s a lot to do, but I’ll come see you everyday.” He promised. You catch up for a few more moments before he leaves. Once Beron was down the stairs you let out a long, shaky breath. You began to pace again as a new kind of anxiety rushed through your body.

As you took deep breaths and shook out your hands you thought about everything you had ever been taught. Everything you read about in the library. Beron and Lady Briar must’ve hidden the books that were truly important in anticipation of your trips to the library. They had to. There was so much missing.

From battles to the history of your mother there was nothing. And five, perhaps six, brothers? Maybe you had been looking in the wrong places. Your stomach churned at the thought of Beron and Lady Briar making up a whole history of the court to teach you.

You no longer know the man you call father. The male you once thought of as your protector is now a stranger to you. This thought didn’t upset you. No, it angered you. You’ve had fifty years to perfect your powers without your fathers supervision. It was time to use it against him. Beron wanted a weapon and now he has one.

Waiting until the Forest House was asleep you donned your black cloak, heading down the stairs. You stick to the shadows rushing to one of the side entrances of the main house you’ve been using. Silently stepping into the house you headed towards the bedroom wings, ignoring the library for the first time in five decades. The truth you are searching for isn’t in the stacks but the minds of your family.

Cauldron that’s odd to think. Family. A small smile pulls at your lips as you approach what you think is your mother’s room.

Noticing the guards outside her doors you fall back into the shadows, darting into a hidden servant's passage. Pressing your back against the wall you mentally prepare yourself to breach your mother’s mind. Cauldron, is this wrong? You asked yourself. The downside of not having a tutor for your powers is not knowing how you should use them or how to ethically use them.

But, if you are using them to save your family from Beron then it was fine. Right? Yes. He is evil and a liar. You nodded at the finality in your own head.

Resting against the dark passage wall you close your eyes. Focusing on your sleeping mother. On her unguarded mind and began sifting through her horrid memories.

By the time you raced back to your tower you couldn’t hold the tears back. The churning in your stomach returned as the images of Beron’s abuse on your siblings and mother flashed in your mind. Throwing yourself on the floor you began to violently shake.

It wasn’t just the abuse that got to you. It was the fact that he lied to them about you. And so…there was no word for it. Awful, everything was just awful. How could he take you from them?

tag list: @mirandasidefics @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @rachelnicolee @lilah-asteria @miadialila

[belliesandburps]

For the prompts: LEONA.

Burping in public

(grunts and hits his athletic chest) "Ugh...hate when they get stuck like that..."

"Mph...heartburn...(rubs his chest as a longer burp erupts out of him and leaves him huffing)...guhhh...pain in my ass..."

(casually picks his teeth) "Tch, hope you ain't expectin' an 'excuse me' or some crap..."

(licks his fangs) "Heh, still has a spicy aftertaste..."

"Ahhh...the hell're you lookin' at?"

"What? Never heard a burp before? Tch, prudish-ass herbivores..."

"Tch, see? THAT'S how it's done, you dumbasses. Now go do your stupidass burpin' contest somewhere else so I can nap or I'll eat every one'uh you..."

Post-Stuffing Burp

"Gruuuooohhhh, man...(caresses his bulging gut)...that felt good..."

"Ahhhh... (gives his big, churning belly a resounding SLAP)...how's THAT for a lion's roar?"

"Ohhh man...BWWWUUUUURRRRRP!!!! AAAAAAAUUUUURRRRRRAAAAAAAAPH!!!!!!!!! Ahhhhh, FINALLY...(pats his belly heavily)...that one was stuck forever..."

"Guhhhh, that was a big one...mph, herbivore...c'mere'n rub your king's belly, or I'll swallow ya whole...and don't think I won't. I just made a TON'uh room after that monster..."

"Damn, I'm gonna burst...(rubs his big, burbling belly with both hands and lazily lets out another long, throaty burp)"

Nauseous Burps

"Urrrrgh...man, my belly's killin' me...(rubs his stomach firmly as a painful burp erupts out of him)"

"Mph...(clutches his stomach tightly and pushes a fist against his mouth)...that one didn't feel great..."

(rubbing his belly as it gurgles aggressively) "Ugh...feel like I'm gonna puke...uuuuUUUOOOoooorrrph...oOOoohhhhhh fuck..."

(grips his knees and hunches forward) "...Grruuuooohhh, I...(grimaces before letting out another thick belch, followed by a much wetter one right after that)...ffffffuuuuuuuck...there's so much more in my gut...(pats his belly firmly as it bubbles in response...knocking loose an even bigger burp that gurgles heavily at the end and makes him clutch his mouth nauseously)"

Kink-Tease Burps

"Ahhhhh...(blows his gas in your face)...heh, y'like that, Pervivore?"

"Heh, keep rubbin' and I'll give ya a REAL good one..."

"Tch, stupid herbivore'n your lame-ass fetish...you have any idea how much more fun this could be if you humans weren't so tame?"

(slowly rubs his bare stomach) "Mmmmm...lot more where that came from, Herbivore...give it a lil push...(guides your hand right above his bellybutton and presses your hand down against his warm belly...before expelling a HUGE belch right in your face)"

"Haaaahhhh...(sniffs the air and smirks)...heh, that monster got'cha all hot'n bothered, did it?"

"Heh, better get used to that smell, Herbivore...(pins you down and licks his lips)...cuz where yer goin'...it ain't gonna get much better.."

(palms his gut firmly) "Mph...that ain't all of it...(sucks in a deep breath, and immediately expels a large belch, then takes another short breath and burps aggressively again, before taking in several gulps of air, grabbing you by the chin, and expelling the biggest, longest belch he can muster RIGHT in your face for a good seven seconds straight) Ahhhhhhhhh...hehehe...yer welcome, ya lil freak..."

[devilevlls]

Pegging Belphie headcanons?

Hope you have a nice day 🌻

P*gging Belphie headcanons

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

📌 TW: Very suggestive, pegging(obviously), sub Belphegor, reader uses a strap.

Will be against it at first. He doesn’t want to feel pain or stress too much.

As you introduces the idea, explain how you are going to prepare him, little by little he starts thinking about it.

One day, he comes to you asking for it, and it couldn’t be any better.

Will want to choose the strap he wants the most.

While doing it, he is a whole mess, whimpering, crying, drooling and clinging into you.

Likes it more than he wants to admit. Being prepared with such care made the whole experience smoother.

Seeing you dominating him makes his heart beats faster. He is a complete pillow princess after all.

Asks for you to do it again often.

The ask was queued up to be posted while I’m out, so you guys aren’t left without any content!

Feel free to send me requests, as soon as I come back, I'll be working on them 💜

I’m new at this format of headcanons, I hope you enjoy it anyway… 〒▽〒 Please give me feedback if that's good enough 💜

Probably won't be doing more nsfw content because it doesn't get delivered to followers.

[sunlightnmoonshine]

Okay so I've had time to calm down and think of ways to make eunseong eat dirt and so now to the positives of this episode which was completely overshadowed by those awful 15 minutes.

- baekhong, how far they've come. To me this was one of their strongest episodes, one because it was truly the most vulnerable we had seen of them together and that scene outside the hospital and then outside the church oof??? The way I could feel the pain, the way I could understand where each was coming from and the way it just hurt because you want only good for them, most importantly though it was the way they were finally communicating with each other and knew why the other was behaving the way that were and were making active efforts to be there for each other irrespective of what they felt.

- at first I had whiplash at how they kept going from tears to just casually hanging out with each other, but it just made so much sense? Like here they are, not walking away but are dealing with the pain together, hyunwoo still trying to convince her but also just being there for her, and haein not wanting to budge but also entertaining hyunwoo's antiques because this is how they work through things, they cry, but they still stay by each other, they try to understand, the effort is all.

- hyunwoo's reaction after the accident deserves special mention but lol what even was that accident, nothing but shock factor and the way they hired that one white dude to just casually be like oh my god lemme call an ambulance and then disappear (bad bad writing) but I couldnt care about any of that because did you see the way kim soo hyun acted his heart out that scene????? Did you see the shortness of breath, the on the verge of a panic attack, the despair then the relief in his eyes, the crying, the way he held her?? The way I could feel every emotion and personally while I think the accident itself was stupid I found it poignant that haein changed her mind when she saw hyunwoo like this and we all know it's not because of the "ooh he looks so sad some lady will come hug him when he's crying after I die" but because haein herself has never seen hyunwoo like this, she saw entirely how destroyed he looked and felt when he thought she died and that hurt her more than anything and oof I just love these two, it's the way they just love each other so much and just want the other to be happy, in this moment haein said I'd hate to forget you but I'd hate it more if my death destroyed you and I think that speaks volumes.

- every other baekhong scene was gold lol, in the hospital, them just being domestic and just talking, the words they say before haein goes in for surgery (poorly written surgery, poorly written illness), the way hyunwoo just collapses once she's in - (and that's it I can't talk about the last 15 minutes lol even though there's a lot of baekhong glory there too).

- special mention for aunt beomja who really is a little ray of sunshine and for soocheol and his little family (I have issues with their bad qualities just being disregarded by this writer but that's for a different post).

Anyway, the ep is flawed just like every ep has been, it's clear the writer has no idea how to navigate complex plot lines and really should have just stuck to baekhong, because that's truly been worth the watch and has been very well written.