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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 2 years

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wrapping up the last three hundred and sixty-five days with a round up of all the 'x reader' fanfiction I have published in 2022. thank you all for all your requests, feedback, reblogs and support over the last twelve months, especially during the 10k month of fic! sharing this love for these characters with you all is such a mental refresh for me, and hopefully I can publish even more fics in 2023. and I hope that you'll love all the new fics as much as you've loved these ones :)

happy new year!

full content warnings and content can be found on each individual post, and each fic is labelled for length. follow me on bartonstark to find all my fic in one place, or check out my ao3. smut/sexual content: *** personal favourites: ///

BRUCE BANNER:

afterwards (drabble) *** aftercare with bruce.

bend, don't break (oneshot) *** /// the take a reprieve during a party, and take a new step in your relationship.

fear and loving in iowa (oneshot) when you’re injured in johannesburg, bruce blames himself.

fireworks (oneshot) thanks to the frigid air at the top of the tower, you share a tender moment.

first times (drabble) *** having sex with bruce for the first time.

p.s. (ficlet) an unfinished note leaves you confused during your college graduation.

restoration (oneshot) after johannesburg, you have nightmares. bruce provides you with comfort.

BUCKY BARNES:

bedside manner (oneshot) sam calls you to say bucky has been hurt on a mission,and you panic.

early hours (oneshot) *** after a mission, all bucky wants to do is crawl into bed with you.

morning grind (drabble) *** morning sex with bucky.

shards of glass (oneshot) *** /// you share a past, and now bucky's tracked you down to find closure.

CLINT BARTON:

after hours (oneshot) *** clint stops by your office after work to distract you the best way he can.

body heat (oneshot) *** /// the there's-only-one-bed trope in the back of an suv during a blizzard.

bound (drabble) *** clint is really into bondage and you're happy to spoil him.

coffee break (ficlet) there's an avenger bleeding in the bathroom of the cafe where you work.

crossroads (oneshot) clint receives an offer that could change his life & you encourage him to take it.

a delicate hand (oneshot) /// clint attempts to pull you out of a funk by helping you get ready for the event.

green light (oneshot) *** /// you surprise clint with a new toy, and he is very eager to try it out.

hey, you (ficlet) *** /// you receive a note from a certain avenger in the middle of a crowded bar.

in the stacks (ficlet) *** you steal a moment of intimacy in the back of a bookshop together.

respite (oneshot) when you’re hurt on a mission, clint has to convince you to take a breather.

think of me (oneshot) *** /// when you're dragged out for a night, clint has an idea of what to do in the club.

three a.m. (oneshot) /// a knock on your window comes from a certain injury-prone avenger.

we could play pretend (oneshot) you bond over all the little things you miss about being in a relationship.

welcome home (drabble) *** you welcome clint home after he's been away on a mission.

JESSICA JONES:

reprieve (oneshot) she has to drag you out of a dingy bar in the middle of the night.

snooze button (drabble) jessica isn't exactly a morning person.

MARC SPECTOR:

fast lane (drabble) *** /// marc gives you a preview in the car of what to expect when you get home.

NATASHA ROMANOFF:

follow my lead (oneshot) natasha offers to teach you how to slow dance.

PETER QUILL:

raincheck (oneshot) /// convincing quill to go to bed isn’t exactly an easy feat.

SAM WILSON:

miss me? (oneshot) you're finally reunited with sam in the middle of the battle of earth.

soul food (oneshot) /// when you’re sick, he ditches his responsibilities just to make you feel better.

STEVE ROGERS:

lost time (oneshot) *** late for your date, steve walks in on you working off your frustrations.

TONY STARK:

afterglow (drabble) *** after care with tony.

as you're told (oneshot) *** /// tony calls you to his office with a new game in mind…

between the sheets (oneshot) *** you've decided to try for a baby, and tony can't wait to get started.

come back to me (oneshot) after tony almost dies, you’re left lost and furious at what just happened.

count (oneshot) *** /// tony is nothing if not a giver. but… he is also a bit of an asshole.

echo (oneshot) /// you’re struggling to forget the past, so you try to bring part of it back to you.

idiot (drabble) *** just an soft, sexy moment between the two of you.

insatiable (drabble) *** the real question is, which one of you is the bigger tease?

mood lighting (ficlet) *** tony spoils you by candlelight.

on your knees (oneshot) *** the idea of having you on your knees is far too tempting for tony to resist.

quick question (oneshot) tony has a question to ask you, battlefield be damned.

red and gold (ficlet) an afternoon in central park lets you appreciate the seasonal color change.

simple pleasures (drabble) *** tony loves nothing more than eating you out.

sober hearts (oneshot) a look at your relationship as it has evolved over the years.

spare key (drabble) *** you give tony a key to your apartment.

subtlety (oneshot) *** impatient, you make use of the ‘emergency stop’ button in the elevator.

warm hands (ficlet) *** the two of you share an intimate interlude out in the snow.

WANDA MAXIMOFF:

hold tight (oneshot) *** /// she loves to spoil you & sometimes that means leaving you a quivering mess.

reflected in you (oneshot) you try on your new uniform, and wanda helps you find your confidence.

spicy sweet (oneshot) *** you plan on surprising wanda, but disaster means a change of plans.

sweetness (oneshot) *** /// wanda loves the way you sound, and doesn’t care who else hears it.

THREESOMES/POLYAMORY:

hands free (oneshot) *** /// you find clint on the phone, and you can’t help but distract him.

player three (drabble) *** /// clint x bucky x you. game night takes a turn when they team up on you to win.

SERIES:

to ashes chapters (full series, this year's chapters in bold) prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - more to come...

tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @wittyforachange @lovely-dreamer19 @castieltrash1 @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved @ruderavenclaw @enna-core @hearmyharmony @katsies @youralphawolf72 @whovianayesha @bradfordbantams @alice-the-nerd @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish @hallothankmas @meeksmusic83 @fallinginlovewithqueue @justanothermagicalsara @dragon-chica @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @starrynightsforever @baku-writes @sorryurnotbrucebanner

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madwomansapologist · 1 year

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How Marvel characters would celebrate Festa Junina with their s/o

synopsis: How would the Marvel characters react to a traditional brazilian winter solstice festival.

Festa Junina is a brazilian winter solstice festivals. It's a celebration of São João's birth, but it's way more than just a religious thing. You can be atheist, you can be jew: YOU WILL CELEBRATE SÃO JOÃO. These festivities are marked by hot food, such as hominy and corn, bonfires, dances, tournaments, declarations of love and a deeply passion for our diverse culture. It's a date (and yes, the whole month is filled with festivities, depending on the state in can go on for all winter) that brings families together, people of all ages.

warnings: brazilian!reader. pure fluff.

glossary: menino bonzinho = good boy (imagine someone squeezing a little child's cheeks, that's it. it's not flirty or anything, it's purely babyfication).

Steven Grant

• It probably was Steven idea. Of course you wanted to celebrate, but you thought Steven would be overwhelmed by... well, everything. So many people, voices, songs, colors, fires. And you'd know him: Steven would eat raw pork miling instead of telling you that you might have made a mistake.

• But when he insisted, you showed him how brazilians celebrate winter. Steven read a lot about it, curious to understand more about your country history and be able to understand something so substantial to you as a part of a different living culture, so he knew what to expect. But he still got surprised.

• Steven just couldn't understand the amount of prepare that was necessary to make a festival like that. Everyone wearing tradicional clothes, dots painted on their faces, knowing all the choreos for a lot of genres of music. Steven couldn't understand the lyrics, but he did felt them. You told him everyone knows them because every school make their own festival, which made his jaw drop.

• Steven didn't stop questioning about how it all originated. You told him everything you knew, since the history of cangaceiros until how some of it's songs were created, and it still wasn't enough for him. Maybe Steven Grant found another history obsession. Maybe.

Natasha Romanoff

• That woman would totally, a thousand percent sure, dressed up. Striped dresses, flower crowns, low-heeled dancing shoes. Let's be honest: she's probably already been to Brasil. Given the serum and who Natasha used to work for, perhaps she bears some responsibility for starting the military coup. So, yes, Natasha know whats happening.

• She'll join in the square dance, and she'll make sure you go dressed as a bride. It doesn't matter if they've already decided who the bride and groom will be, you're going to be the bride. Partly because Natasha wants you to have fun, but that's more about her competitiveness than anything else.

• Speaking of competitiveness, Nat would definitely spend a considerable amount of money on tokens for the water pistol stalls. Be prepared to carry a few teddy bears around for the rest of the night, Nat will be sure to get the biggest ones. Everything for you!

Marc Spector

• He definitely won't like the noise. Everything is in excess. But when you guide Marc to the fire, with roasted corn and the whisper of embers, he will enjoy the night much more. And Marc will have a lot of fun. He isn't used to public bonfires with snacks other than marshmallows. Marc ate about fifteen different types of corn before fearing passing out from eating so much.

• He thought it would be weird because it's a catholic festival. You explained to him that no one actually cared about it: it was about culture, not a religion. It was a festival that your country gave another meanings. So, yes, the name is from a catholic saint, but it's way more than just that. When he was there and understood it barely had any religion references, he got way more comfortable.

• Marc will be a flirty mess. It's a romantic setting. The cold forces people to stay together, dances are made for couples, even competitions ask for counterparts. He don't get a word from what those musics are about, but the still slow dance by the campfire.

• If Marc was alone, he would want to come home as soon as he couldn't eat any more. But he wasn't. Watching you smile, spending money on stalls whose games you couldn't win, was why he stayed there. It was nice to see you like that. Marc could live forever in that moment.

Wanda Maximoff

• On the previous night, Wanda will watch every movie that is somehow correlated to the festival. Turma da Mônica's specials, Lisbela e o Prisioneiro, Gonzaga: De Pai Para Filho. Get ready for a long movie marathon.

• She's ready to understand the vibe. Pinterest boards, playlists, make-up tutorials: Wanda won't be on a festa junina, she will drown herself on that holiday. It's somehow what you do on Thanksgiving Day. Watch a lot of movies and try to recreat the feeling you'd imagine everyone is feeling.

• Because of the movies, she got that it wasn't enterely a religion thing like she had imagined. So she felt more comfortable to interact with things.

• Wanda will participate in the raffles, get happy to win a set of tupperware, and will join the old people playing bingo. She will win, but it won't be a fair game.

• She'll try to share a candy apple, but when the caramel starts sticking to Wanda's hair... not for her. She needs to have her hands clean. More for you.

Thor

• That man is a golden retrivier. The kind of person to won a participation prize and shout "Yes! That's right, I'm here!". Different than the others on that list, Thor wouldn't try to blend in. Asgardian god, wearing armor and holding mjolnir, casually walking on a neighborhood party.

• He would compete in the apple tanks and pool drop. At first no one would want to compete with him, but as soon as a kid started playing with him everyone realized that Thor was just a nice guy. "Menino bonzinho", you heard some old lady calling him. "Menino bonzinho."

• Another one who would win every plush possible for you. The difference is that he wouldn't focus on the best ones: he would play until he got them all. What you're going to do the most that night is go to the car to store the new batch in the trunk.

• Honestly, he'll look more happy to be there than you. Once the night was over, Thor would hold you close and promise to take you to the Asgard holidays. They will be way different, but with almost the same amount of food and way more alcohol.

Jake Lockley

• You thought Steven wouldn't like, Marc got overwhelmed, so when it was time to take Jake to a party you were absolute sure he would hate. Less because of the amount of information, but more because of how many people would be there.

• London is... cold. Obviously it's cold, but it's distant. People don't seem to want to interact with others. To see others as humans. And Brasil is about social interactions. Is about extended families, where even if half of the relatives hate each other no one fails to show up for Sunday dinner. It's about making friends with bus conductors. About seeing something weird on the street and sharing a look with those walking next to you. You will never see each other again nor have exchanged words before, but when the path separates you will say goodbye.

• Living in Brazil is all about caring for others, and you don't think that Jake would enjoy living in such an environment. Jake is the protector, the shield of the system, the one that will act when the others don't have courage to do so. So, yeah, you bet he wouldn't feel comfortable on a place that includes so much mundane interaction.

• Wrong! At first he seemed a little uncomfortable, but when you asked him to dance... Jake is a good dancer. Another surprise. Jake knows Spanish, which means he could more or less understand what was being said around him. You thought he would be worrying about everything, but Jake seem comfortable there.

• It was fun to be there with him. Maybe because he's latino (which still confuses me how the system is american, british an latino at the same time... I just pretend to understand), you felt like you were sharing something deeper with him. It just hits different.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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shurisneakers · 9 months

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a writing challenge? in 2024? you bet

Hi! Hello! Hey!

I've been going through A Time and have chosen to cope by going back to the specific vibes of 2016 to 2018. That happens to include an incredible resurgence in my love for MCU fanfic, the community around it and all the love that goes into them. I've felt a bit distant from here for a while, but I still see so many of my old friends writing, ones who want to get back into it, and a whole lot of new writers I am dying to meet.

I've floated this idea vaguely on my blog and people seem to be interested so I figured it was worth a shot!

So yeah, welcome to Ari's Old School, Nostalgia Jam, Why-The-Hell-Not MCU Fic Writing Challenge 2024!

Prompts, rules and whatnot under the cut:

Requests:

If you could reblog this post to reach someone who might want to participate, I'd really appreciate it! No need to be following me, it's open for anyone.

Reader-inserts, OCs, solo character fics, character x character-- absolutely no limitations

Any and all MCU characters are allowed

Anything above 500 words should have a read-more/keep-reading tab. Series, multi-chapters, one-shots, drabbles, etc etc. The sky's the limit.

Please tag me in your fics (@shurisneakers) so I'm notified of them, and post them with the tag #arisoldschoolwritingchallenge . It may take me a while to get back to you due to the circumstances I find myself in currently, but I absolutely will. Please send me a DM if I haven't responded within 10 days.

Send me an ask with the prompt you would like. Feel free to pick up to 2 prompts

The only thing I request of you: no RPF and no dark fics. Smut is welcome, but non-con/dub-con/incest or anything along those veins is something I'd ask you not to submit for this challenge. Thank you for your understanding!

I know I've called it an MCU fic challenge as it's the community I've grown with, but if you feel like any of these prompts resonates with a character from another fandom, please go ahead and write it. This challenge really is just about the fun of writing fanfic and love for Your Little Guys

No submission cut-off date. Take all the time you need.

Prompts

I've tried to have a mix of classics and uncommon tropes/dynamics, so I hope everyone finds something they connect with!

Relationship Prompts

1. Enemies (taken by @theysaywhatasadsight)

2. Best friends/childhood friends

3. Coworkers (taken by @jaaneymann)

4. Internet friends

5. Neighbours/roommates (taken by @angrythingstarlight)

6. Fake dating (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

7. Commuters

Alternate Universe Prompts

1. Florist AU (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

2. Showmance AU (taken by @bombsonboard)

3. Social media/streaming/gaming AU (taken by @splintered-emotions)

4. Thieves/Heist Group AU

5. Time travel AU

6. Pirates AU

7. College AU (taken by @lovelybarnes)

8. Apocalypses/dystopia AU (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

9. Chef AU

10. Roadtrips AU

Some rarer miscellaneous ones for those who are so inclined!

1. Shipwrecked together on an island

2. Meet Ugly (opposite of Meet Cutes) (taken by @barnesandco

3. Both of you are ghosts but don't know the other is

4. Treasure hunters AU

5. Faking death

6. Professional cuddlers AU

7. Time loops/Groundhog Day (taken by @sxrensxngwrites)

8. Orpheus and Eurydice

9. Villain x hero

10. Hitchhiking

11. Carnival of Horrors

12. Robin Hood

13. Matchmakers AU

14. Insomniac x narcoleptic

15. Intergalactic Coffee Shop AU

16. Doomed By The Narrative

17. Enemies to Lovers to Enemies

18. Subversion of Classic Hallmark Movie Tropes

Dialogue prompts

You can tweak them as per requirements, but be sure to keep the underlying message!

Angst

1. "I should have trusted myself. I should have stayed far away from you." (taken by @waywardcrow)

2. "Has it occurred to you that how I feel matters too?" (taken by @jaaneymann)

3. "We failed. I would do it again."

4. "You do not deserve my forgiveness."

5. "You make me feel so alone." (taken by @reidishh)

6. "I'm not giving up on us." "I did. You should too." (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

Crack

1. "Ohhh, you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid." (taken by @pinkthick)

2. "I think you and I make the worst choices together." "Yeah, but it's always entertaining."

3. "I trusted you." "Terrible decision, really."

4. "I know I'm smiling but I want to push you off a very big cliff." (taken by @pepperonijem)

5. "I'm hilarious." "You're traumatised."

Fluff

1. "This is the only thing I look forward to everyday." (Taken by @bombsonboard)

2. "I think we should do that again. For the sake of the world and my sanity."

3. "You're all I think about." (taken by @waywardcrow)

4. "Don't go anywhere I can't follow." (taken by @iguess-theyre-mymess)

5. "Don't smile at me like that." "Like what?" "Like that." (Taken by @lovelybarnes)

Word Prompts:

Flesh

Strawberry

Bruised (taken by @juvenilearson)

Groovy

Jump

Sunflower (taken by @barnesandco)

Alchemist

Wayward

Offerings

Mischief (taken by @supraveng)

I hope you'll join in! Please do tag anyone you think would be interested, I'd love for this to have as wide an audience as possible.

Lots of love <3

-Ari

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mrsaguapapi · 4 months

Text

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13 Ch 14 Ch 15 Ch 16 Ch 17

Chapter 18

My Sunshine

The Vibe:

Corinne Bailey Rae 11. Seasons Change

"Wanda is dead. I saw her die" Stranges says pacing away in his office. Looking absolutely ridiculous with his lounge clothes and a cloak.

"She's alive Stephen." I say exasperated

"Okay, I'll play. Let's say she's alive, which she's not. Why of all people would you go to her?" he gestures to himself, "I can help you."

"I'm not letting you anywhere near my memories thank you very much." I scoff at him, "I don't have time to bring you up to speed, I need to speak with her, and considering with what happened in Westview and your little multiverse incident, I don't know where her head is at mentally. All I'm asking is that you watch my back and be on standby" I plead

"Look I want to help you but that last thing we need is to instigate another fight with Wanda Maximoff, IF, she's even alive," Strange says. "If she's alive, I theorize she won't be happy seeing me, so no, I'm not going with you," I roll my eyes and stand up, ready to walk out, "I didn't say I wasn't going to help you," he says stopping me in my place

"Okay well, Stephen can you just spit it out some of us have shit to do," I say holding my hands out annoyed

He rolls his eyes and pulls out a display and uncovers it revealing a floating crystal ball, "This is the Orb of Agamotto. This allows me to monitor the universe and other surrounding dimensions. With the ability to 'Livestream' other planets and pinpoint magic users anywhere, except for those with the power to block its view. I can use this to watch you from a distance and if anything goes wrong, I'll portal to you and help"

I take a moment to think about it, "Fine, you have a deal" I say holding out my hand to him

He shakes my hand and smiles, "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"Ugh and you ruined it," I say, dropping my hand, rolling my eyes, and grabbing my sling ring, "For the record, I never really blamed you, and neither does Peter. You just happen to have an annoying face and that I can't forgive" I laugh to myself," Give me your phone" I say to Strange. He hands me his phone and I put my number in it and call myself so I have his number, "When I get there I'll call you and have you in my ear." I say putting an airpod in and giving back his phone. Pausing for a moment I take in a deep breath and exhale allowing myself to relax before opening a portal to the shuffling streets of Sokovia.

I step through turning to look at Strange, "If she's alive and as powerful as before she could easily sever my connection. Just keep that in mind." He warns. I nod my head and close the portal.

"Okay let's get this show on the road," I say to myself walking the down the city streets

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

After getting some food and thinking about the next approach I decided instead of using a locator spell and exposing her safe space, I figure I'll summon her to me. So I picked the most public place I could think of.

A playground

Sitting on the bench watching the children play, I say in my head, "Wanda, I need your help" I call out to her making sure my intention is clear and that I mean no harm, "That should do the trick" I whisper to myself. I pull out my phone to call Strange, "Hey, she'll be here any minute. Can you see me?"

"You chose to bring 'The Scarlet Witch' to a playground?"

"She won't hurt the children," I say

"I once thought that too until she tried to murder America Chavez in front of me" he quips

"Yea well this time will be different Stephen," I say annoyed "Have a little hope will ya?"

He sighs, "You never told me why you need her specifically."

"I was told by my dead mother to go to her directly. She didn't say why, but I trust her judgment. Wanda may also have some info on someone else I'm looking for." I say rather quickly and annoyed

"So the short answer is you don't know," he says

"I've been on the phone with you for 2 mins and I already want to kick your ass," I say making us both laugh

"What's so funny?" I hear someone say near me, causing me to damn near jump out of my skin. It was Wanda sitting next to me in civilian clothes with her hair dripping wet.

"Good lord girl. You don't have to be so creepy" I say clutching my fake pearls

"You started It. I heard your little whispers in my ear while I was in the shower. I thought you had the drop on me." she laughs under her breath, "So why are you here? Don't you know I'm 'dead'? I'm sure Stephen told you. Right Stephen?" She asks a little louder

She knows

"Did you think I wouldn't know?" Wanda Asks

"Millie she's blocking me, I can't see you anymore," Stephen says in my ear, "I'm coming to you"

"Hold off Stephen," I say out loud, "It's okay" I pause looking at Wanda with a small smile, "Do you blame me? If I didn't come with some sort of backup, I'd be pretty dumb don't ya think?"

She looks at me for a while like she was searching for something in my face eventually looking away and letting out a large exhale, "I have been a real witch lately" she says causing me to laugh, "You said you needed my help and I could really use a distraction right now, so what can I do for you?"

"Hey, Stephen you still there?" I ask

"I'm still here. You still alive?" He asks

"Yep. I'm gonna let you go, I'm okay" I say to him

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm, I'll text you later," I say before hanging up on him, "Let me buy you a drink. We've got a lot to talk about." I say standing up and holding out my hand to her

"One drink isn't going to cut it," She says taking my hand "Might have to buy the bar," she says making us both chuckle.

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

Wanda and I have been venting and drinking for an hour or so at this dingy little bar in the middle of town. We both are sitting in a booth in the back of the room effectively away from the other patrons.

"So," I say before throwing back another tequila shot, "So out of grief you kidnapped and brainwashed a random town in New Jersey, Created a fake husband and children, and then traveled through other universes, blindly looking for said fake children?" I ask

"Well," Wanda taking a sip of her bourbon, "I feel like you're oversimplifying it a bit. Westview wasn't a random town, Vis bought us some land there to build us a home and my children are only fake here, they're very much real elsewhere, but... essentially yes you are correct." She says finishing the drink

"Wanda," I say rubbing my head from the sudden rush I'm feeling, "That like really sucks"

"I Know right? "Oh and let's not forget Pietro, my dead twin brother," She says nonchalantly

I burst out in laughter, I couldn't help myself at her candor, "I'm sorry that was so mean" I said trying to control myself.

Surprisingly Wanda joins me, "You are fucked up, you know that?" She says laughing with me

"I know! I know! I'm sorry, it's either you laugh or you cry and I'm tired of crying" I say catching my breath from laughing

"Couldn't have said it better myself" Wanda says collecting herself from laughing with me"So enough about me and my lifetime of trauma, fill me in on what's going on; why do you need my help?"

"Can I just so show you? It will be quicker" I ask holding my hand out to her

"Is it going to hurt?" She asks hesitantly

"No. I mean no one has complained before?" I say smiling and shrugging. She places her hand in mine and I use my memory transference on her filling her in on everything; my ghost mom and her past with the darkhold, the books from Wakanda, how peter found me in the lake, and my lack of memory.

"Wow," Wanda says taking her hand back, "You've got some serious power Millie, your magic is vast." She says rubbing her hand "Unpredictable too... It's very familiar."

"Well that wasn't ominous at all," I say a little creeped out, "Can you help me?"

"Yes, I think so. We'll need an open field and it's probably going to hurt" She says standing up "Come on we should get going"

"Fine," I say standing up and throwing some cash on the bar, "But can we not skip over the whole 'it's going to hurt thing"

"I imagine being struck by lightning doesn't feel good," She says walking out

"Well Fuck" I say following her

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

The Vibe:

Bishop Briggs - Lessons of the Fire: Official Lyric Video | Devil In Ohio | Netflix

Wanda takes me to this field on the outskirts of town. It was surrounded by overarching trees and we were in the open center. When I look up I see nothing but a full moon and stars. The air was cool and the energy surrounding us was peaceful. Wanda had set up several candles around me in a circle and stepped out leaving me alone in the center

"Explain it to me one more time, " I say a little freaked out

"You need to summon the lightning to strike you"

"Okay but why?" I say a little freaked out

"The connection you and your ancestors have with nature runs deep in your blood. Channeling the weather seems to be something engrained in your DNA, specifically thunderstorms and lightning. A storm woke you up in that lake; you were struck by lightning. I'm hoping that with almost the same conditions, it could do the same for your mind. Make sense?" She finishes

"Yes, it does, I think. I'm sorry but I am scared the last time this happened it left me with a giant scar across my body." I say unconsciously rubbing my scar, "Are you sure you can't do some kind of spell?"

"I can't. Quite frankly I'm afraid too"

"What does that mean?" I scoff

"You possess multiple forms of magic. It shouldn't be possible to have more than 2 or 3. Millie, from what I felt from your hand and what you've shown me in your memories, you seem to possess 4. I'm afraid if I go poking around in your brain that you will unconsciously retaliate and that's the last thing we want to do."

Why is she being so cautious?

"What forms do you think I possess?"

"1 being eldritch magic, which you learned from the sorcerers. Accessible by humans, eldritch magic can be properly controlled by those with highly disciplined minds who have been trained in casting spells. Your ancestor Ayesha was a sorcerer supreme, so it's only natural that you have an affinity for this form. " Wanda pauses, I can tell she's a little hesitant to continue.

"Go on it's okay, I can take it," I say trying to convince her, and myself

"The second being Dark Magic, also known as Witchcraft. An extremely powerful and difficult type of magic used by sorcerers and witches to achieve their goals through morally questionable means.

"Morally questionable means? I would never hurt anyone.." I begin to say

"You wouldn't now, but what about you before your memory loss? Who's to say you weren't a bad guy? In your memories when your mother died you were taken by a coven of witches led by Agatha. Agatha isn't exactly a good witch; she's ancient and she's evil. I wouldn't be surprised that her influence on you wasn't positive, especially considering that she's also possessed the darkhold." Wanda sighs. "She was a pain in my ass, I'll take you to her after this."

She has a point, what if my memory comes back and I still have an allegiance to her? What If I lose my feelings for my current loved ones...

"Anyways" Wanda continues pulling me back from internal panic, "Dark magic can be combined with other types of magic, which leads me into your last 2 forms, darkhold and chaos Magic. When your mother was using the darkhold while pregnant with you, a portion of its power embedded itself in you. I am almost positive that's why are you able to use magic just by mentally displaying your intent."

"I can understand why I may have dark hold magic but chaos magic feels like a stretch. Due to its very nature, chaos magic is extremely unstable and requires a massive amount of energy and control to master it; I don't feel I'm at that level. I would have noticed by now right?"

"Like me, you were born with latent magical abilities, yours coming from your ancestors. Your generational power bestowment has given you vast immeasurable strength that was the perfect breeding ground for chaos magic. Let me ask you, have you been losing your temper or lost control of your powers lately?"

"Yea I have been losing control of my powers," I say thinking back to the incident in my bedroom and outside of the royal palace in Wakanda, "I also almost killed a man yesterday. Honestly, I think I could have done it if I wasn't stopped."

"Key signs. I knew your power felt familiar, I felt the chaotic energy pulsate through your veins; You're like me. If I fuck anything up messing with your memories you could go crazy destroying everything in sight. Do you get it now?" She says to me very seriously

"I do" I pause lost in my thoughts. After a few more seconds I hear a loud beep come from my pocket. I pull out the source of the noise and realize it was my pager.

It was a new voice message from Namor, I hold it to my ear and listen, "I miss you more Ki'ichpan"

Through messages and he still makes me swoon.

Feeling a little relaxed, I take in a deep breath, "What do I need to do"

Wanda holds out her hand, "Give me your beeper and your cell so they don't get destroyed." Doing as she says I throw my things in my sling bag and hand it to her, "Okay do what you need to do, to feel as connected to the nature surrounding us"

I take off my sneakers and socks linking my feet to the grass, "Okay" I nod to her

"You can already control the basic elements correct?"

"Yes," I say

"What are the conditions needed to cause a storm?" She asks me

"Storms form when warm, moist air rises into the cold air," I respond

"Make that happen," She says plainly

I silently nod my head and close my eyes; my feet are firmly planted on the ground and my hands are open at my side. I begin to box breathe:

In 1,2,3,4

Hold 1,2,3,4

Out 1,2,3,4

Repeat

Eventually, I feel myself relax, I'm only focused on the surrounding sound of the night; the wind around me was nothing more than a breeze. I was in a total moment of zen and for a while it was quiet. After minutes of silence, the wind around me began to dance and I feel the hair on my arms stand, "It's coming I can feel it" I said as the wind begins to pick up rapidly.

I open my eyes and lift my hand to the sky calling the lighting to me. I see storm clouds forming over us almost fully blocking out the moon, nearly leaving us in total darkness if not for the candles, "Come on" I yell to the storm. For a moment it grew eerily quiet but suddenly flashes of lights began to paint the sky; it was my lightning. Just as I began to smile with pride from the storm I created, a giant bolt of lightning makes it's way down, connecting to my hand and making my whole body seize.

The pain I feel is almost indescribable; not only did my body feel like every inch of me was on fire but my head felt like my brain was boiling inside my skull. For what felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a matter of seconds, the pain stopped and I fell to the ground. The only thing I remember before fading away was Wanda rushing to me, "Millie Wake up" she says, "Millie don't g-", was all I hear before slipping away.

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

The Vibe:

Breathe me -- sia

It's dark and quiet. I can't feel anything. I can't move.

"Mom.." I hear a males voice whisper

Who's voice is that?

I hear the voice speak again, "Mom I-" he coughs not being able to finish his sentence.

I know that voice.

"Momma I can't move" he speaks clearly before coughing and gurgling. That voice is so familiar. It's warm like the sun. The sun...

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away

I love the sun. My son. I named him after the Sun God; the creator of the universe. He's my sunshine, my world, the center of my universe. My Amun.

"Amun!" I yell jolting up. When sitting up I instinctively grab my stomach in utter pain. Looking down I see I'm bleeding, I'm assuming a stab wound. Looking around I see I'm back at that same awful place. Kissena Park.

"Mom," Amun says

I hear my son call to me again; I snap my head in his direction and I see my son lying on the ground covered in blood, "No!" I scream crawling to him, "No, no, no"

When I reach him and scan him a little closer I can see he was stabbed like me but it must be somewhere fatal spot because he was coughing up blood, "He stabbed and knocked you out" he says in between coughs, "I tried t-to protect you but I wasn't strong enough, I'm s-sorry Mom"

"Hush now baby," I say panicked and in between tears, "I can heal you," I say holding my hand over his wound.

"You're too w-weak, you'll die," He says

"I don't care. You are my son, my life means nothing without yours. Just breathe baby" I say trying to calm him and myself down

"Momma, who is that? Sh-she looks like you" He says looking past me. I turn around and see no one.

"Amun baby no one is there," I say

"Momma she's so warm. I think- I think I'm going to go with her" Amun says to me

No.

"No baby stay with me. Don't go." I say my voice begins to shake, "Stay with me, I can fix you, Please" I beg

"It's okay momma, I'll be fine." He says before looking behind me and nodding his head.

I turn around and still see nothing, "What am I to do? How do I breathe without you?"

Amun takes my hand and squeezes it and smiles before taking his last breath. His hand relaxed in mine, and his eyes glossed over. As he took his last breath he took a part of me with him. I pull my son's body to me holding him tightly never wanting to let him go.

"Well that was dramatic" I hear a man say from behind me, "It was a shame he went down so fast, I expected more from him considering his lineage."

I gently put my boy's body down leaving a kiss on his forehead before standing up and turning around. It was the faceless man in the black suit, "Bring him back"

"Like mother, like daughter. What are you willing to trade for his life? Your mother gave me her power. What do you have to barter?"

"Take anything, my power, my life, my soul. I don't care to take it all"

"No" he responds, "Why would I bring him back? I was the one who killed him."

"Y-you attacked us?" I asked. My voice was shaking; I was filled with not only grief and sadness but an overwhelming sense of rage, "Why? We lived in peace, I have atoned for my past. How did you even find us, we were so careful for years."

"Your family has always been on my radar, But you should thank your friend Agatha, she pointed me in your direction." He smiles as my heart drops

Agatha why?...

"I knew one day eventually one of your family's descendants' power would rival mine and I just can't have that. I figure it's time to end the whole bloodline. You should take some pride that it ends with you, you are the strongest and with more time you could have been more powerful." He steps closer placing a hand on my cheek. I look at him where his eyes should be, "It'll be easier if you just surrender Millaenyia"

"All chances of me surrendering left when you Killed my son." I sneer

"So be it," he says disappointed. Before I knew it his hands were hovering at the side of my head, he was draining me of my power and my life, "Don't worry this won't take long" he says softly

I fall to the ground, no longer able to stand up. If I don't act quickly, I will die.

Maybe I should let him.

I ponder on that thought for a while and just as I was about to accept my fate the man speaks up, "Almost done, you'll soon be with your son"

My son. He killed my son.

I snap out of it, realizing I was about to let my son's murderer roam free, I quickly devise a plan.

I'm too weak to kill. But I think I have enough in me to trap him.

I look up and see the man holding his head back as he was draining me, he wasn't paying attention to my hands. I lift my hand out toward the tree behind him; I use what's left of my powers to form an opening in the tree that was big enough to hide a body within it. Once done I call to the roots and branches of the tree, willing them to slowly creep up behind the man and gently wrap around his legs and arms. He was so focused on the feeling of this newly acquired power of his, that he didn't notice he was being detained until it was too late.

"What is this?" He says seeing the branches wrapped around his hand, "What are you do-" the man says before whipping back into the tree. His arms were now behind his back being thoroughly wrapped in roots followed by the rest of his body. The only exposed part of him now was his neck up, "This won't hold me, you child"

I stand up and walk to him, "You will rot in here" I sneer before wrapping my hand around his neck quickly taking back my power and life force. "All you care about is power right?" I ask knowing the answer, "I'll take that too" I say now draining him of his energy and power, leaving just enough to keep him alive so he can rot here for the rest of days.

"Let me-" he struggles to say "Let me ou-" The roots cover the rest of him effectively muffling his words. I step back holding my hand out to the tree and use my powers to close and seal it shut. I place my hand on the tree and close my eyes:

To be Seen or Unseen.

Never in the focus of one's eye

Of nature's age, it does defy

To be Seen, or Unseen

With this spell, this tree will never age. It shall never be directly seen but it will always be here.

Once done with the small runes are now etched around the tree sealing his fate. I walk back to my Amun and look at him one last time.

I need to bury you, my love.

When I go to pick him up I see he had the journal he made of me tucked away in his jacket. Not wanting to leave the journal behind for someone to find and use, I grab it and bind it to my wrist before I pick Amun up. I walk towards the lake and will the water to separate allowing me to walk down to the center of the lake. Once I make it to the spot I place Amun down. I kiss his forward one last time, "My sweet boy" I say before I hold my hand out and use my power to have him sink into the dirt, fully burying him.

I lay beside him now, with the intention of ending my life and resting beside him for eternity. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, something was stopping me like there was someone in my ear telling me no. So, still intending on resting beside my son, I decide that if I'm too cowardly to end it now, I don't deserve to remember him in case I wake up:

Forget me not

Forget me now

Forget the past

Forget the sound

Forget the memories

Forget the love

Forget it all

Forget it now

As I finish the spell, I feel myself begin to fade away and sink to the ground. The water released and is slowly filling the lake back up; I find comfort in my last lingering memory of my son's laughter before I'm completely asleep.

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

The Vibe:

Labrinth & Zendaya - I'm Tired (From “Euphoria” An HBO Original Series – Lyric Video)

"Millie wake up!" That is all I hear before I feel water being poured on me.

The sudden feel of cold water all over me jolted me awake. I sit up completely dazed; my eyes were fuzzing and my ears wear slightly ringing. Eventually, the ringing faded and my eyes clear up. I look around and see Wanda sitting next to me, looking like she has seen a ghost, "Are you okay?" She asks, "Fuck you are still steaming, does that hurt? I thought the water would help," she says concerned.

"I'm okay," I say plainly.

"Are you?" she says. I look to her with expressionless eyes and nod.

My body feels numb, it's because of the lightning... No, I remember...

"Did it work? Do you remember?" She asks

"I remember everything," I say beginning to cry, "My son..." I say holding my stomach, I feel like I'm going to throw up, "Oh god my son" I say sobbing

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thehollowprince · 1 year

Text

Hellfire Gala Variants - Part 1 | Part 2

#t'challa #thor odinson #marc spector #mary jane watson #jean grey #wanda maximoff #dylan brock #carol danvers #felicia hardy #wilson fisk #hellfire gala #fall of x #x-tag

131 notes · View notes

fromasgardandback · 1 year

Text

𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

MARVEL

Everyone

✩ Summer Road Trip

✩ New Recruitment

✩ Avengers Girls Night

Bucky Barnes

✩ Coastal Bike Ride

✩ Rooftop Conversations

✩ Storm Clouds of Trust

Loki Laufeyson

✩ Serendipity & Mischief

✩ Stargazing and Memory Making

✩ Tour of Asgard Headcanon

✩ Trust Building Headcanon

✩ Drunken Confessions

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley

✩ Don’t Pretend, Not With Me [M]

✩ Workplace Crush [S]

✩ Egyptian Masterpiece [S]

✩ Friends To Lovers Headcanon [S]

✩ Full Nights Sleep Headcanon [M]

✩ First Dates Headcanon [M,S, J]

✩ She’s Mine Headcanon [J]

✩ Proposal Headcanon [M, S, J]

✩ Bride & Groom First Look Headcanon [M, S, J]

✩ Weddings Headcanon [M, S, J]

✩ Honeymoon Headcanon [M, S, J]

Sam Wilson

✩ Louisiana Lovin’

Thor Odinson

✩ On The Go With The Guardians

Wanda Maximoff

✩ Avenging His Death

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Munson

✩ Metal Heads Headcanon

✩ Night Out With The Gang Headcanon

✩ Touch-Starved Lover Headcanon

✩ Vacation Headcanon

✩ Promposal Headcanon

✩ First Date Headcanon

✩ I Love You Headcanon

✩ Band’s First Album

✩ Fixing It

✩ Family Video Store

✩ Cold Rainy Days Headcanon

✩ Graduation Headcanon

✩ Fourth of July Celebrations

Boyfriend Eddie Headcanons ✩ School Eddie ✩ Domestic 🌴 ✩ College ✩ Rockstar ✩ Rainy Days ✩ Snowy Days ✩ Summer ✩ Fall ✩ Holidays

Steve Harrington

✩ The Girl Next Door Headcanon

✩ Babysitters Club Headcanon

Max Mayfield

✩ Big Sister Program Headcanon

✩ Healing Together Headcanon

Dustin Henderson

✩ The Favorite Harrington Headcanon

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker

✩ Naboo Paradise Headcanon

✩ The New Jedi Order 🌴

Obi-Wan Kenobi

✩ Double Padawans Headcanon

✩ Not A Damsel In Distress

✩ Coruscant Café

ONE CHICAGO (closed)

✩ Family Cookout

✩ Detective Chuckles

✩ Sisters

60 notes · View notes

skylarinfinity · 2 years

Text

*m/n on vigilante team try to get information from avenger*

m/n: *look at wanda and yelena start panicking* nope no *whispering to his ear piece* uh help me.

matt: *shake his head and sighed* we screw.

wade: ooo we going to have an orgy?!

matt: what no-

marc: m/n l/n don't you dare make us fail this mission! control your mummy issues!

author note: l/n = last name

tags: @sonicqaulan

103 notes · View notes

embracethemadmess · 2 years

Text

Dreaming with the Witch- #4a Bewitched

-> masterpost <-

Ships: Steven Grant/Marc Spector, Marc Spector/Wanda Maximoff

Categories: F/M, M/M

Summary: Steven is refusing to sleep at night again, but this time he also doesn’t want to front during the day, so Marc has to cover for him at work, running on little to no sleep every day, straining his voice on -quite bad- British soft accent. If that wasn’t enough, there’s this third alter still actively moon knighting without the other two knowing. All this leaves the body completely exhausted and, well, on the edge of falling apart. One time the system meets a witch willing to help heal both the body and the disturbed minds in it.

Chapter summary: First part of the chapter called Let your body talk to me, saying everything I need, in which we're gonna dive deep into Marc's past, including his relationship with his mother, his traumatic time in the army, as well as the abuse he's gone through in psych ward. In this particular part, though, the system meets Wanda again.

wordcount: 6048

a/n: Between my moving out, sick cats and working full time, the plans for this chapter changed a bit and I had to start from the end. Fun fact, this was supposed to be the shortest one of the three parts, but my word doc says its length is similar to the previous whole chapter :))))) hehe, I'm so done with myself, honestly. Enjoy reading this mess of a story, I'd appreciate your opinion on it. Talk to me, lovelies xx.

Disclaimer: I'm expanding my knowledge of the D.I.D., but I do know research isn't always enough, so please feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong in the series.

* * ☾ * *

He doesn't know where he is, who he is with and how he ended up there.

Everything seems too far away; the harsh reality is twinkling at him with the shine of the most carefully polished diamond enticing the eyes of a robber from behind the thick weaves of the mourning veil called powerlessness, distant and exclusive, forbidding his eyes the privilege of observing his surroundings, and his ears of hearing what wicked rumours are being spread of a miserable creature that he is.

What he does know, is he makes quick work of gathering neatly in the centre of his foggy mind, guided by the hatred of being left in the dark - unprepared for a fight, at the mercy of what's about to come at him.

New pieces of information flood his brain as he's trying to dot-paint the work of art of his current situation on a shredded canvas of his numbed senses.

There isn't much that he can hear, his heart throbbing ear-splittingly loud is taking almost all of the space made for sound to be heard, but in between rapid beats, a voice barely above whisper tries to enter in a mission of straddling his temples with the sweetness of caramelized almonds. It's calling for him like a siren song lures sailors to destruction, and it sends shivers down his everything - his bones shaking within the coat of flesh, the blood boiling inside his veins, his skin sinking under the hills made out of crispation.

"Easy, soldier," the voice, most likely a woman's voice, says. "I've got you."

The tone she's using is soft, his injured brain states. It's soft and warm like a favourite blanket in the middle of winter that one puts over their lap on a couch to rest in front of a TV with a mug of hot cocoa burning the skin of their hand in the nicest way possible. He doesn't second-guess the fact that he likes that tone.

Contrary to his hearing, his feeling seems to be working overtime with everything hitting him all at once. His heart pounding against his ribcage in the rhythm of his panting; hot breaths bouncing off the wall of skin close to his mouth and coming right back at him, crashing over the hairs of his own bearded chin; his knees weakening slowly under the weight of his limp body; cold waves of wind assaulting his bare arms as if deeply offended he dared to stand on its way in the voyage across London; accelerated pulse underneath fingertips clawing at her neck and pressing there with descending strength; pulsating pain cuddling the knuckles of that same hand; and finally - the way a scarlet-red trickle of blood is staining its way from his forehead down his face, breaking pale skin in two almost equal islands of pure distraught.

He's hurt, not only emotionally, but also physically, or so it seems. Having imaged things that weren't true for years that day, he can't be sure if he's actually bleeding, and even if he wanted to ask, he couldn't; his voice stuck deep in his throat, blocked by the lump resting there.

Once he has finally let go of her neck, allowing his hand to slide down the delicate porcelain of skin on her chest and through her breast clothed in a black blouse, he feels his knees give up completely, to which he answers with a weak sigh slipping through his lips. He doesn't fall, though, even if he's prepared for it by closing his eyes and jaw clenching in direct response to pain about to strike him. Instead, a pair of arms is being wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds to keep him in place, standing still in a warm embrace, although with his face squeezed a little by the cheek of her tilted to the side head as if in attempt to hold him tight with everything she has to ensure his safety.

"Gosh, you're heavy."

As she says it, the beginning of her struggle hits all of his senses and yet, he can't do much to support her trembling legs under the weight of two bodies, or her back leaning dangerously far back in order to create a surface for him to lie on; despite his willingness to help, he can't force his limbs to tense up and stand on his own, so he just is there, with his face nestled to the crook of her neck and his nose between two small buttons of her blouse.

"Hold on," she mutters as if he had a choice, a hint of labour engraved in the rhythm of her breathing right across his ear. One of her arms then leaves his waist while the other grips the fabric of his shirt tighter and he wants to protest, whether against her abandoning him or Steven's favourite shirt being crumpled in her fist - he doesn't know and frankly, he doesn't care. He wants to say something, craves to let out a growl and maybe pick up his pride from the level of the lowest circle of hell that he thinks he has dropped accidentally when he landed in her arms in the first place, but he can't and sadly, it's quickly added to the long list of things he despised himself for.

While he's busy fighting with his own thoughts, from the corner of his eyes he sees her palm facing the ground on her side, with fingers bent in a way he would call uncomfortable, and red energy coming out of them, bolting to the cold concrete just a moment before they're both standing upright again. She's no longer ruining his shirt, instead, she gives his lower back a few gentle pats prior to leaving him be - still a little dazed and unsure. His brows furrow at his body feeling weirdly light being held in place by the very same scarlet mist surrounding him from every angle from his toes to his hips, dancing blithely between his legs and even around his shoulders and head, as he takes quick notice of some swirls in these areas.

What's also there, is the familiar pressure right behind his eyes which he feels like he hasn't felt in months. It's not invasive like in old times - in fact, it's barely there, subtle, gentle like the person it's associated with.

Marc, Steven purrs into his ears, a clear worry soaking his voice. Love, are you alright?

"Hey," is all Marc can muster to breathe in hush tones. Despite everything, that had happened that day, despite all the blue feelings pushing and pulling him in every way like a rag doll, his voice still sounds stern, the tone of it still floats on a low register. The only real difference that can be heard is the obvious relief in it.

Before he can say something else, ensure his headmate that yes, he's fine now, and maybe hide under some basic statements the fact that he missed his voice, the woman in front of him lights up a little at his greeting.

"Hey," she repeats after him, eyes bright not because of the red glow covering her irises, but because of the delight wrinkling the corners of them and pulling the corners of her lips upwards slightly but enough to bare a few of her teeth. This smile suits her, Marc can't help himself but think as soon as he sees how genuine her expression seems from where he's standing.

Blimey, she looks gorge with that braid. Steven's voice catches his attention again, causing him to frown at the revelation. Indeed, her hair was loosely braided on one side of her head, falling lazily on her shoulder on full display, with a few lonely strands refusing to stay in a rusty-red plait.

"What 'r you up to?" Marc means this question for Steven as he feels a stronger tug in his chest that almost makes him wince, but since Steven can't be seen by the outer world, in his opinion it becomes quite fair that it's Wanda who tilts her head again, this time guided by curiosity, not a difficulty, and folds her hands over her chest, the looseness of it imitating that of the braid perfectly. The black puffy sleeves of her blouse look massive in comparison to the rest of her petite figure.

"Well, actually... I was thinking of coffee, maybe...," a hesitant reply enters the air between them, more of a question rather than a statement. "Wanna grab one with me?" comes next and Marc raises both of his eyebrows in pure surprise. Like everything the body does when he's in command, it happens quickly, almost unnoticeably - every emotion vanishing from his face as soon as it crawls under the skin there, taking over facial muscles for a fraction of time so tiny, one could miss it with a blink of an eye.

He then notices he's no longer drowning in the red mist of hers, to which he responds by smoothing the fabric of the patterned shirt on his stomach, then lifts one of his hands and clears his throat, coughing once in the closed fist before opening his mouth with clear intention to politely decline her invitation. He feels fuzzy, his head migraine-heavy, yet uniquely light at the same time, like all his thought have been somehow captured in a bubble and squeezed shut, away from his consciousness.

The delicate fragrance of something - tangerines and vanilla, he thinks - hits his nostrils, takes his attention away from how the redhead's eyes turn the natural shade of green again.

"Eh, y-yeah, why not."

Excuse you, what?! Usually sweet, the tone of the Brit's voice at this moment sounds more like a shriek of an irritating quality, causing Marc to flutter his eyes shut, pain sitting in the deep crease between his knitted brows. Steven seems not to care at all, though and continues spilling words of a lecture that ring in his ears and echo throughout his entire skull, Are you mad, it - no, Marc, it takes two to decide in this household - or is it bodyhold? Dunno, the point is, we've just voted no, haven't we? My days, you've just said it out loud, are you really gonna change your mind just 'cause she asked the same question twice?

Steven is babbling, meaning he's either irritated with him or nervous, that much Marc is sure of. Probably both, is the conclusion he settles with. Maybe he can feel Marc's desperate need for water, too, since he's shuddering internally, feeling extremely cold on the outside and quite hot from within. He almost slips there a little, close to actually flinching hard at the mix of dehydration and his headmate's reprimand, but he manages to catch himself and trap the body in his signature tension before the woman in front of him takes notice of it. Though, for a moment he wonders if he wasn't too late with that reaction, simply due to the way he finds her staring at him with a look intense enough to make him want to curl up in himself and hide the exposed nerve he thinks he has somehow become in the face of that studying gaze.

"Wanna share with the class what's on your mind that took your head high up to the clouds?" she asks, voice just above the whisper, which he wouldn't catch if it wasn't for his constant wariness. There's this ghost of a smile, dancing on her lips, that holds the warmth of a thousand suns.

Marc sighs. "It's just that...," he mouths, his hand jolting to the back of his head to rub at the skin of his nape. "I don't think'm a good companion, I feel like shit."

As soon as he admits that, with a nonchalant shrug and eyes focused on everything but her look, she's visibly biting a widened smile that tries to deepen mimic crinkles on her cheeks. For a moment it looks like she's contemplating something before she takes a single step toward him.

"Being absolutely honest with you, you kinda look like shit, too." There's a playful glint in her eyes when she says it, then takes another cautious step while gesturing at his forehead. "May I?" A question equally cautious arises in the small space between them, making Marc arch one of his brows, doubt clear as glass nearly breaking the indecipherable expression.

Slowly, he nods but his glare follows her every move as she gently touches the skin in the centre of his forehead, thumb hesitantly sliding down his face in almost the exact same route he's tracked the blood earlier. The feeling of release comes after, there's no longer this dull sensation boring into his frontal lobe and he hides his surprise well, even if he feels himself grow more and more suspicious of her doing.

"That's better," she mutters as if to herself, then without any explanation turns around and starts walking toward the nearest gate. Marc's nose wrinkles when he doesn't feel the itch of blood staining his skin, and he scratches the expression away with a knuckle, almost instantly hissing under his breath at his own stupidity, being painfully reminded of the presence of fresh cuts and wound swelling decorating both of his hands.

Marc, please, just- just allow your survival mode to kick in, yeah, and let's go home, la-

Steven's in his ears again, cut off almost right away; his voice is carrying a full range of the worst emotions Marc can find in it - dread, concern, panic, all tied by extreme fatigue that Marc's feeling as well. Has been feeling for a while now.

"You coming?" Wanda - he genuinely hopes he remembers the right name - calls after him, glancing from over her shoulder, and when she sees he hasn't moved an inch, she doesn't even wait for him to answer, already coming back to where she previously stood. "C'mon, it's just a quick coffee break." Her talking reminds him so much of Steven's babbling at the moment, which makes him wonder whether it's a sign of stress in her case, too. "Promise I'll let you go right after. Won't even force you to order a pastry. And I'm pretty sure I've seen a small café right down the street, so it's not like we have to tramp for miles to get there."

By the time she's done talking, she's already standing by his side, lightly grasping his elbow. He doesn't expect it at all, therefore he jerks away like he's been burned by the touch, his jaw clenched, his hands closed into fists lifted defensively as if ready for a fight. As a response, he gets her wide-open eyes and mouth opened agape, with her arms raised in surrender and her legs moving back in an attempt of restoring the distance between them.

"Sorry," she says apologetically and clears her throat, a clear sign of discomfort. "Didn't mean to scare you."

He scoffs at the implication. "'s fine, you didn't scare me." I don't like being touched unexpectedly, plays the lower parts in the harmony of his reply, hidden but giving the statement the right, a little dark shade of seriousness.

They're walking side by side, their shoulders don't brush against each other even once. Marc is dragging his legs rather than actually walking, lazily but cautiously following Wanda wherever she is leading them; his gaze is focused on the ground as always, not really interested in the world before him, but his body is set slightly rightward to where she's taking one step after another at a mild pace, whether to block a possible attack on her or to block an attack from her - he doesn't really know. They don't talk, even Steven has resigned to aimless naming things they're seeing along the way, but that doesn't mean they're stuck in uncomfortable silence; actually, it's better this way, Marc thinks, neither of them feels compelled to fill the space in with useless words and they don't draw the unwanted attention of random passers-by.

Dog.

Marc is walking along the edge of the pavement as he always does when women accompany him, in case they stumble, it's easier to catch them, preventing them from falling under speeding cars. He's done this so many times with Layla and even girls before her, it became part of his nature, the only exception being his mother.

Kind-looking old lady.

He notices Wanda has her hands casually shoved into the back pockets of her black jeans, though there seems to be something off about her behaviour. He could be wrong, but she looks way less relaxed than she was at the back of the museum Steven's working at. Despite not looking directly at her, he can see from the corner of his eye that at some point her body has welcomed the tension twin to his own, letting it devour her bone-deep.

Fancy car.

It's interesting, Marc admits to himself, to see someone else equally disturbed in public. He has watched Steven from the comfort of the backseat of their head for years, a silent observant of the mundane life his headmate has created for himself, so he always knew Steven shared this personality trait with him, although driven by completely different reasons - Marc avoided crowds because he felt out of control over a situation and overwhelmed by the possible danger waiting for him around the corner, too many alien faces to be wary of, too little space to see a knife or a punch coming his way; Steven to some extend craved relationships with people, which made him more trusting than Marc would ever allow himself to be, but he also always preferred meeting one or two people at a time, simply due to the fact that, if there were more people around him than he could focus at, an intrusive thought would creep into his mind making him feel anxious that they were laughing at him and talking behind his back about how big of a weirdo he was. But still, Steven was always a part of him, a part of his world, a treasure Marc felt he needed to protect. They were in this together, even if for the most part Steven wasn't even aware of him. Layla was always open to the world, she liked people, she enjoyed being around them, or at least didn't ever mind being among them. She smiled a lot, she had no trouble making friends - that she wasn't exactly honest while doing so, it was between her and those who would catch her red-handed, Marc being one of the very few examples. She would never get uncomfortable in a crowded place like the city of London mid-day like Wanda did now, apparently.

Some daft cow on an electric scooter.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." The man curses out loud, a raspy voice cutting through the silence between him and his company like a sharp knife. That earns him her furrowed brows, so he quickly gestures toward the kid crossing the street. "He should get off the scooter before the zebra crossing," he murmurs as an explanation, then takes his eyes off of what's in front of him and devotes himself to looking at the sidewalk beneath them. Her understanding nod is the last thing he sees and Steven's huffed sigh is the last thing he hears concerning this topic.

Silence coats their fragile forms once again, letting them gather their thoughts in peace, so neither of them would say something they don't mean.

Ladybird.

Marc grunts in warning, even though Steven's voice overlaps with the sound of a bullet being shot that his mind has pulled out of the darkest corner of his memory just for him, and a part of him is grateful to the Londoner. Nonetheless, it's a threat and Steven's well aware of it, so he goes silent right away, not daring to speak again for the rest of their little trip down the street.

Call me weak once more and I'ma stick the next bullet up you fuckin' ass, understood?

The American grips the doorknob tight enough for his knuckles to go white from the force. He pulls the door, lets Wanda in first and blindly follows her to the second floor of Selfridges where they're welcomed by grey walls with big mirrors placed in the middle of every panel created by some kind of purple flowers draped down to the diners as well as hanging from the ceiling. There were... a lot of flowers in there, too many for Marc's liking, settled quite literally everywhere, not only on walls but also bureaus in shades of milky white and greyish baby blue, and atop windowsills, amongst the putrid green of moss.

On their way to one of the free tables, he sees some young women dressed in an awful shade of pink dresses, one of them sitting with a superstitious smile on her face, a cup of coffee in her hands and a wicker bag put at the table, posing for pictures the other one is taking. He rolls his eyes at the sight, then catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of the mirrors - the figure, so much alike but clearly not him, is holding his hands close to his chest and looking around the place, amazement written all over his face - and he lets out a defeated sigh because of course, he should've guessed his headmate would appreciate a climate like this one.

Wanda chooses the table by the windowsill, Marc pulls out a chair for her before taking the seat opposite. He's sitting straight, averting his eyes from Wanda's exploring gaze, toying with his watch as a distraction for his shaking hands. He can't necessarily say the atmosphere looming over them is tense or heavy, it's just that he doesn't have anything to say to her; hell, he doesn't even know why he agreed to come here with her. His headmate also couldn't understand, Marc judges by the pout painted on his face that he's gracing him with from the mirror above the redhead woman.

The energy seems to have shifted, even though nothing really changed besides the air becoming lighter as if their presence got somehow erased from the consciousness of people around them. He doesn't mind any of it, in fact, it causes him to exhale deeply and lean back against the backrest.

Steven, on the other hand, has his arms crossed over his chest, an attempted - and failed - intimidation dancing across the soft edges of his face. Marc quickly decides not to spare him any attention.

Understood?!

His own voice, dripping with rage, spitting venom mixed with unshed tears, rings in his ears, followed by the sound of a thud. It purses his lips in a thin line, deepens his frown, and even almost forces him to squeeze his eyes shut, but he fights against it; swallows it hard, sending it down to the lowest pit of his stomach.

"Good afternoon," an audibly bored greeting enters the closest space around them. Marc turns his head to his right only to see a young waitress nearing their table, and tilts it to the side at what he wetnesses next; one second the girl looks like she doesn't even care to hide tiredness crawling out of every pore in her pale skin, not a trace of professionalism in the way she's approaching them - the next she has a polite smile stretching her lips upwards and sprinkles of joy spilt across her eyes as she continues: "What can I get you today?"

"Well, I came in here with a coffee in mind, but now I think I'd rather get a cup of frothed milk with a drop of honey, please."

Marc's neck almost snaps from him rapidly turning his head back to Wanda after he hears that same sweet tone of her voice he's started associating with her, now sounding a bit different due to the sudden change of an accent. His face betrays nothing, though, and he clears his throat when the waitress directs her focus to him.

"Tripleshot of espresso to go," he says without even a hint of hesitation, which earns him a suspicious look from the green eyes in front of him. There's something hidden in them, something Marc rarely sees - worry. Wanda throws a glance at his hands, then she looks back at his face while gesturing with a flat palm of her lifted hand for the waitress to wait a moment. "I'm not staying," Marc adds automatically before she cuts him off.

"How many of 'em have you drunk already?"

Mommyboy's gonna cry?

Steady beats of his heart are starting to pick up pace as the derision bounces off the walls of his skull, echoing mercilessly. He feels his lungs pressing against his ribs, it's painful and it makes breathing difficult, causing him to clench his fingers in a fist around the chain of his watch in a desperate need for an outlet of some sort.

Soon there are two other hands covering his own, loosening his grip and disconnecting them just so the owner can take them in her own. It's a gentle movement, her thumbs rubbing swollen knuckles as if he was about to shutter any minute from now; as if he was drowning in agony.

Which wasn't so far from the truth, but that's something he doesn't intend to reveal.

"Yeah, we'll have two frothed milks with honey, please, both to go." With these words Wanda turns to the waitress, sending a warm smile her way. "Names are Marc and Wanda."

"I don't-"

"I'm not trained in dealing with heart attacks, Marc, and I sure a hell don't wanna witness one today," is what she answers to his protests with, cutting him off before he's even got a chance to spit out his rights.

The waitress exits the booth they're sitting in, Marc could swear he sees her flinching a few steps away from their table, her arms slacking to the position he first noticed when she approached them. Normally, it would feel weird and Marc would want to investigate. Normally, he would stand up and walk out the door without saying anything, because it would be clear to him that something was wrong and he didn't like it. Normally, he most likely wouldn't even be in such a place with a person he's only met once.

Normally. But nothing about his current state is normal, therefore he simply rolls with it.

He can't say it's not impressive in his eyes, that she sounds so confident and the look on her face shows pure determination when his frown is so prominent it almost hurts his forehead to strain the muscles any longer. He's used to the fact that his murderous glare intimidates his opponents to the point they trail off in what they're saying and avoid his eyes, looking for the easiest way out of the confrontation. She - Wanda - keeps her head up, eyes never leaving his when she asks:

"How many sleepless nights do you have behind you?"

Marc doesn't answer. Instead, he makes himself more comfortable in his seat, taking his hands away from underneath hers, placing one of them on his lap and pinching at the moss with the other. All while pretending he hasn't noticed healthy skin on his knuckles that were very much covered in wounds up until a moment ago.

"What's with the accent?" he asks after staring her up and down. The smile on her face turns from genuine to bitter in a matter of seconds and she lowers her head as she lets the question fully sink in, at least that's what Marc think is happening. She doesn't respond for a moment which leads him to elaborate his thought, "Clearly, you ordered with an American accent but when no one's around but me, you speak with a different accent, a bit harsher one, Slavic-sounding. Bulgarian, perhaps?"

Sokovian.

"Sokovian." Both Wanda and Steven answer at the same time, at which Marc's brow arches slightly. He nods, signing for her to continue. "I'm keeping their minds in a fog, so they don't freak out when they see me. But- ahh, even though I can control what they hear and how they react to it, with the way they hear it it's always a gamble. American accent helps with staying incognito, it's umm, the final self-defence mechanism."

The man hums in reply. For a moment he seems deeply immersed in thoughts, not saying anything, only picking at the moss, and she waits patiently, with fingers of one of her hands fiddling with a button of her blouse.

"So, you're a witch, huh?" He doesn't sound like anything, really, when he queries. His tone is monotone, flat just like the expression he's wearing on his face. Not a spark of freight in the brown of his eyes, not a twitch of snark pulling at the corners of plump lips. A facade impossible to penetrate is what his mien resembles. On the outside, the inside is a whole different story; in his chest, the heart is hammering against the hardness of his ribcage, bruising with each drop of blood pumped from it, the lungs are refusing to give out too much oxygen to the body already rotting with guilt, causing shortness of breath, and the nerves abusing their power over the muscles of his legs, sending tremors down his foot. He receives sensation after sensation telling him Steven wants him to leave the place and hide in the safety of their flat, but he forces himself to sit still, simply because he isn't believing in the concept of safety this day.

His eyes abandon the few freckles sprinkled on her cheeks in favour of the waitress entering their booth with two different-looking paper cups. He thanks her on behalf of both of them, then watches as Wanda takes her cup and then takes a few lazy sips of her frothed milk. His question rests between them unanswered long enough for him to start forgetting it even has been spoken aloud, but finally, she parts her lips in response,

"Does it matter to you?" a question to a question, not really polite of her, he thinks to himself and his eyes soften just a tad at that thought.

"No."

"I am," she replies properly this time. Then adds, "but you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Yes." He feels his headmate huff at him for lying like that, it's so dramatic that he can almost visualise the Britishman's eye-rolling him with his arms folded against his chest. "You said them, not you. Means my mind is being spared?"

"Yes." A short reply is meant as an echo, he gets this much from the gentle smile she serves him right after. A mimicry of his previous response, as she elaborates without him loosening her tongue. "I don't have to. When we first met, you didn't panic, you didn't run away screaming, or call me a monster worse than Thanos, even though you were scared. You still are, yet you're here talking to me, knowing full well I could torture or kill you."

"M'not scared."

Yeah, sorry... She's prolly talking about me.

Marc resists the urge to deepen the frown pulling his brows down, instead, he rubs the skin under the tail of his right brow with his left thumb, using this movement to cover up his panicked glance at his ankle as a direct result of a sudden feeling of restraint squeezing the bone there. Painful memory fades away as fast as it's become vivid in his mind, shocking him to the core with its intensity, leaving his lips even more dried and his soul even more shattered.

"Been both tortured and killed before," he says after clearing his throat to avoid the risk of something in the tune of a squeak ripping out of it instead of his usual low voice. "Got bored, came back." There's an obvious nonchalance slow-dancing on the tone he uses while saying it, and he knows he seems relaxed as ever, even if the experience he's referencing couldn't be more traumatizing if it tried.

Wanda squints at him. She says nothing as she takes in the sight of him, studies his face again, and for a moment he finds himself fearing for her to read his true colours. Then she visibly relaxes, leaning back in a more comfortable position, crossing her arms loosely enough to still be able to drink her sweet milk. He tries some of his - it's a bit too sugary for his liking, but overall the milky foam tastes quite good, its light form tickling his palate before warming his throat. He won't ever admit it and he most likely will never drink it again, so he lets himself enjoy the drink for a minute.

"So..." with it, she initiates a question that he already knows he won't like. "Are you gonna tell me how long it's been since you last had a good night's sleep?"

There's this soft smile playing on her lips again to let him know she means well and it's working because he knows she has good intentions behind what she wants to know of him. All the same, he still can't gather up the energy to reciprocate all that. That's why he decides to get up, finally listen to his mate, his lad up in his head, cosily sitting right behind his eyes.

"M'fine," he states for the nth time that day as his fingers curl around the paper cup, with 'Mark' written lopsidedly on it, and lift it, so he can take it with him. His other hand reaches down the front pocket of Steven's chinos to fish out two banknotes and put them on the table.

Before he takes his first step, though, Wanda closes her own, velvety-smooth hand around his wrist, with one simple yet not too intrusive gesture stopping him in his tracks for a moment she doesn't intend on wasting.

"Let me help you, for your friend's sake if not for your own."

Both he and Steven raise their brow at her words. The latter says something, Marc knows he does, even if it's not audible around his skull, he just senses it. He, on the other hand, just licks the left corner of his lips in preparation to speak. The exchange then happens too quick.

"What friend?"

"You have so many that you have to know the name?"

"I don't have any, that's how I know you're lying."

While she remains silent, he takes the time to properly think his own words through, and let them sink in. He means it, he doesn't have any friends. Always a lone wolf, always unwilling to trust anyone, always too hurt already or locked away from people considered normal by social standards. He had a friend; Layla was the closest person he ever let near him, the closest person to a real friend. Could've been just that if he wasn't the way he was, keeping his distance, hiding things from her, keeping secrets so crucial for their happiness buried in his heart just like Ammit's tomb was buried in the sands of Ancient Egypt. Losing her in Cairo just like he's lost her father.

"Layla," he hears from the outside of his mind which snaps him back to reality. Unspoken question writes itself all over his face while he's drowning in the pale emerald of her eyes, utterly lost for words and on the edge of a stroke caused by shock only. "You wanted the name, right?" is the question she raises next, a bit too early for him to fully comprehend it. "Now, will you let me help you?"

Marc stares her up and down. His thoughts are racing, each one weakening him, each one deafening the outer world so he'd ultimately be left trapped within his own scarred mind, away from the sense of mortality, of humanity.

Steven lets out a sigh.

#moon knight fic #the scarlet witch fic #dreaming with the witch #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #wanda maximoff #marc spector x wanda maximoff #marcwanda #marcsteven #moon knight x scarlet witch #mcu moon knight #mcu scarlet witch #moon knight scarlet witch au #jewish moon knight #jewish scarlet witch

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