#pulls out destiny grimoires
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How I Sanctify a New Home
With Jupiter being in my Fourth House, I am always pulled back to our ancestral home where I currently am. But previously, I have lived in four cities in three countries. Here is how I would always sanctify my new surroundings.
The Invocation
At my first witching hour in my new place, I imagine that the entire house is a square, and I position myself in its very middle. Sometimes that is in the living room; other times, in the dining room.
Dressed elegantly, with a white candle in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other as an offering, I invoke my higher power. I call upon The Fates, Authors of Destiny; Pluto, Lord of Power; and Venus, Goddess of Love. I thank them for my new dwelling. Anything I do from here on out, I perform with their blessing.
I make sure I am alone in the house. If that is not possible for you, at least ensure that everyone else is asleep, so that you are the sole forceful energy in your environment as you proceed.
The Shielding
Still imagining the house to be one big square, I now go to its four corners. In each one, I leave a piece of paper with a protection spell written on it using a consecrated pen.
The spell I use is something obscure from our family grimoire. If you do not have your own, feel free to use Siras, Etar, Besanar. It is rather popular, so I believe a little internet research would tell you more about these words. One of their oldest uses is to invite benefic spirits to keep you safe under their cloak.
I store the spell behind a plant, inside a vent or under a baseboard. Sometimes I put it in a small box first. The bottle of wine I leave on my altar, until it is time to replace it with another offering.
The Greeting
Now that my higher power has graced my home with their divine presence and me with their protection, I make myself known to its other inhabitants. Ghosts, entities, mysterious beings.
Still holding the candle, I tell them, “I am Diana, a seventh-generation witch who comes from an even older bloodline of pagans. The Fates themselves write my story. Venus herself grants me harmony. And Pluto himself punishes those who wrong me. This home is now mine. I understand you have been here much longer. I wish you no harm, so long as you too wish me none. I gladly offer you my friendship. Or we can ignore each other in peace, if that is your wish.”
I leave them a plate of homecooked food as proof of my good will. Because of this, every supernatural presence I have ever felt inside a house of mine has been warm and friendly.
The Celebration
Lastly, I hold a party the day after. Lunch or dinner. A small and humble gathering with my friends and new neighbors.
I do this to celebrate my higher power’s kindness and generosity in protecting my new home, and to show the occult creatures who have remained that I intend for the house to be filled with happiness, which they too can enjoy and harness.
I have found, from others’ experiences, that a house which has not been sanctified tends to give its inhabitants a rather miserable or unremarkable life. That is why even Catholics sanctify their dwelling. They call it a house blessing.
#Spells#Rituals#Traditional spells#Witch tips#servantofthefates#Witchblr#Spellcasting#All About Spells
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I’ve seen some reinterpretations of Stella and Stolas’s relationship and how it went downhill and imo they’re way more compelling and realistic than what was given to us. How would you reinterpret their relationship falling apart?
I'd have it disintegrate sort of the same way it does in the show, except with a bit more character development.
Let's see if we can rework the final scene from episode 201.
After hearing her husband's song, STELLA steps onto the balcony.
STELLA: (coldly) So, you see this palace as a prison. How long have you felt this way?
STOLAS: (glancing at her) Oh... Since Octavia was born, I suppose. I realized then that I could never turn back. I had to fully commit to this marriage, for her sake. There was a strange finality to it. Her birth was the death of my freedom to accept who I was.
STELLA: (anger mounting) You resent her, then? She never asked for-
STOLAS: (snaps) I never asked for any of this! (takes a breath) Why was it written that someone such as I should be born into royalty? Why has fate saddled me with the duty to sire heirs despite my inclinations to the contrary? (irritated) And why must Via go on to suffer the same... blessing?
Stella gasps at the b-word, shocked and offended.
STOLAS: Well, it's true! Did you ever think to ask her what she wanted? Has it occurred to you there could be a better life for her than this?
STELLA: (glares) There is no better life than this. (gestures to the gardens below and the towers above) All this wealth, luxury, everything any sensible demon could ever want... And you'd rather frolic with fucking imps. (bitter smile) You really are a bloody stupid cunt, aren't you?
STOLAS: If you find me so detestable, why do you keep coming back?
STELLA: (caught off guard) I... I like it here. My mother's place doesn't have such... finely embroidered curtains.
STOLAS: (flatly) The curtains. That’s why you keep dodging the guards.
STELLA: (as if this is common sense) Well, yes! But also the private cinema, the hedge maze, the pool, the sculpture collection, and... and all those exquisite tapestries...
Stolas watches his wife lose herself in her reverie. She talks about the palace with more fondness than she ever expressed for him.
STELLA: (cont.) Not a stitch out of place, not a crack in those smooth marble forms... Every crystal in each chandelier is so crisply cut... And that perfect network of secret tunnels... The view from the fourth tower...
STOLAS: (touches her shoulder) Stella-
STELLA: (snaps out of it, recoils) Ew! What?
STOLAS: (meets her eyes) This is more your home than it was ever mine.
She blinks in confusion.
STOLAS: Perhaps it’s best for you and Octavia to stay here. (shuts his eyes in pain for a moment) And for me to leave you in peace.
STELLA: Oh. Well. Alright then. (chipper) Off you go!
Stella pulls out her phone and turns away to text someone. Stolas smiles weakly at the sight of her elevated mood, then enters the palace to gather his things. He takes a carpet bag from his closet and enchants all his clothes to shrink and fit into it. He repeats the spell with his bookshelf, toppling the books into the bag with a careless sweep of his arm. Doing all of this, he feels nothing. Not happy, not sad, just indifferent.
As he slides his pills and toiletries off the bathroom counter into the bag, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out. It’s Octavia.
STOLAS: (gasps and fumbles the phone before answering) Via?
OCTAVIA: Dad. Mum just texted me saying you’re leaving the house, and we’re moving back in. Do you really want to do this, or is she putting me on again?
STOLAS: (sits on the bed, sighs) No, this was long overdue, and it will benefit everyone, really.
OCTAVIA: But... You grew up in that place. You have so many memories-
STOLAS: Nothing but reminders of the path others chose for me. It’s time to fly from this cage. Forge my own destiny.
OCTAVIA: Uh, okay... But where will you go?
STOLAS: A few dukes owe me favors. I’ll ask around. (sees the grimoire on the bed next to him, picks it up) Otherwise...
He trails off, staring into space.
OCTAVIA: Dad?
STOLAS: (blinks, clears his throat) Yes, I’m here. Don’t worry, darling. Everything will be fine.
OCTAVIA: (after a pregnant pause) If you say so.
STOLAS: (smiles) I love you, Octavia.
OCTAVIA: (with a slight crack in her voice) Love you too. Bye.
She hangs up. Stolas considers the grimoire and leaves it where he found it. He rises, picks up his bag, and shuffles to the doorway. As he takes one last look at this room, a strange expression spreads over his face. This time, it’s not the absence of happiness and sadness, but a mixture of both. He switches off the lights and closes the door, leaving everything in blackness.
END
Of course, this script is a first draft and it���s a tad long (maybe the bedroom scene could serve as the next episode’s opening-?). It might work best in a scenario where the flashback stuff was omitted from the episode. Could probably use some polish and tightening up either way.
But fuck, at least Stella’s not beating us over the head with “I enJOy TOrmENting YoU” anymore, and the purpose of the scene isn’t to paint one character as a monster and the other as an angel. It’s to portray them both as reasonably flawed people with realistic motivations, though Stolas’ offer to Stella makes him the more sympathetic of the two, and Stella’s lack of empathy toward him reminds us why she’s considered a villain. This version basically achieves what the original writers were going for (or at least I hope it does; y’all can judge for yourselves), except, y’know... subtle.
#ask#pazam#helluva boss#helluva critical#helluva stolas#helluva stella#writing#rewrite#script#dialogue#long post
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You have been asked about your theory
arborealoctopodes asked:
Hi I would like to hear about your theory
SO. I’m still working on this one, and it’s Bungie so there’s like a 70% chance it’s something brand new and completely out of left field. But one of the few bits of info we got from the showcase implied Neomuna was the result of a ship that escaped the Collapse. That made me think of an old plot thread from a D1 grimoire card:
I fear my will is not strong enough to shape these worlds. Only the Tyrant can do that, but he will not be a part of my journey. Even his reach has limits, and we will be nine billion miles away.
I whisper my concerns to the Tyrant in tiny magnetic bursts. He does not listen.
The Tyrant says take the SIVA, and so I take the SIVA.
The Tyrant says go to the stars, and so I go to the stars.
Sometime around, but before, the Pyramid Fleet hit the system, Rasputin dispatched a colony ship carrying SIVA to a destination "nine billion miles away”. That line always made me roll my eyes because while it sounds like a lot, in astronomical terms nine billion miles isn’t very far at all. It’s barely 100 AU; the orbit of Neptune is 30 AU out and the Kuiper Belt tails off around 55 AU, and there are dwarf planets like Eris with its high-eccentricity orbit that range out that far. It’s less than a tenth of the way to the Oort Cloud that marks the real edge of the Solar System. At the time I chalked it up to Bungie’s writers grabbing what sounded like a big number and not bothering to do the math.
But. Remember the Solar System wall map in Rasputin’s bunkers during Season of the Worthy? After Neptune it had a few rings for the Kuiper Belt and then an additional planet the same size as Neptune. Astronomers have long debated the possibility of a tenth (or ninth, now) planet, usually nicknamed “Planet X”, that orbits waaaaaay out there*. Planet X is a staple of scifi and unless Rasputin’s playing a bizarre joke on us the Destiny universe has one in the form of a world of significant size way out past the Kuiper Belt. A planet at 100 AU - nine billion miles - from the Sun would fit Rasputin’s map and line up with older theories for a real-world Planet X.
* It may seem absurd that we could miss an entire planet, but planets don’t emit visible light, only reflect the Sun’s, and a world that far out would appear to move so slowly it could be mistaken for a fixed star. These days space-based IR sky surveys have mostly ruled X out - but only mostly.
Golden Age human spacecraft ranged as far as the inner edge of the Kuiper Belt, and Clovis Bray’s journal contains a passing reference to what sounds like a Vex incursion at a research station on Pluto, but the line of permanent human settlement hadn’t yet passed Titan. When Rasputin started building the Exodus program as insurance against the possible extinction of humanity, Planet X would be an ideal candidate for the first wave: close enough to quickly resettle our system, far enough from human settlements that a force targeting Earth might miss it, especially if they kept their heads down. So I’m now thinking maybe the colony ship he sent out with SIVA really was going a mere nine billion miles away - to pitch camp on Planet X.
Pulling an entire Golden Age city out of thin air is a stretch even for Bungie. They’ve had this reveal up their sleeve for a long time, long enough to put Elsie’s fish in the Beyond Light reveal trailer and maybe the mystery power armor Sloane found on Titan in Season of Arrivals. Therefore: what if Neomuna was the reason they included Planet X on Rasputin’s bunker map in the first place? The lightmap was a significant setpiece they knew players would be watching closely, so the artists probably didn’t add it just for funsies. Casually dropping in a new solar system planet is a pretty crazy piece of worldbuilding. And yet it’s barely remarked on in written lore, either then or since - same as Elsie’s fish, which those bastards played the long game on for two solid years. I will bet you a hundred dollars that when the map assets for Season of the Worthy were made, Neomuna was on Planet X. I bet it started out there and got moved to Neptune the way the Deep Stone Crypt was originally going to be on Enceladus (hence Cayde’s message to Petra) but got moved to Europa later in development. I bet the story’s going to be that the colony ship was headed for Planet X, but the Pyramid Fleet hit the system early and they dove for cover on Neptune.
The few early bits of info we’ve gotten on Neomuna suggest their tech is all based around extremely advanced nanites, like the constantly-morphing Quicksilver Storm. Elsie even calls out SIVA the first time she encounters the Neomuna nanites, but says Neomuna’s bugs are vastly more advanced - which you might expect if SIVA were the original city’s lifeblood and they’ve iterated on the tech out of necessity ever since. We also learned the Cloudstriders have very short (10 - 15 years) lifespans because of how much cybernetic enhancement they do to their bodies. Remember the secret experiments Willa Bray was doing with SIVA? She was infusing it into people, trying to enhance physical and mental prowess. And it worked, too - but it drastically shortened their lifespans. To the tune of weeks for Willa’s subjects, but like Elsie said, Neomuna’s had a lot of time to improve. And for meta reasons it would explain why Bungie hasn’t revisited SIVA in recent years even though it’s a popular request from D1 players; they already had a whole expansion of “SIVA, but neon chrome this time,” in the pipeline.
Given that Neomuna’s hidden in the atmosphere of Neptune, there’s a good chance it’s the NEFELE STRONGHOLD mentioned in the Collapse-era Rasputin message - a human settlement that Rasputin then erased all mention of, even from his own memory. If he knew that ship had gotten a foothold on Neptune, he’d probably also know the Pyramids hadn’t found it yet (was this, potentially, because of Savathun? is this the trick her worm claims she played on the Witness? that seemed to be more about the Traveler though.) Exodus Black had crashed, Green disappeared into a singularity, and Red and Blue hadn’t even made it off Earth. Rasputin knew every Exodus ship was a mad gamble anyway. At that moment he would likely consider the Neptune colony to be humanity’s best shot at avoiding extinction. So he cancels its defense as part of his general retreat but also takes the time to erase all traces of its existence, including his own records. He won’t help them, but he will give them a chance to stay hidden and escape the Black Fleet. And since he’s now forgotten the colony exists, he doesn’t check up on them in the following centuries or mention them to us.
Like I said, it’s Bungie, so there’s a 70% chance the lore justification will be completely new and out of left field. But it does line up. In a month of guessing I wouldn’t have called the swerve they took for Lightfall, but now I think they’ve been leaving breadcrumbs for this one longer than it seems at first glance.
#Destiny 2#Lightfall#Neomuna#overthinking is my superpower#words words words#things I made up#really pumped to see if I'm right#hope we don't end up with Red squaring off against that mind#let Red go ten minutes without fighting#eh who am I kidding he'll be starting shit five minutes after he's back in action#bungie bring back my guy#ra ra Rasputin Mars' greatest war machine#this is the wager of existence
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◈ munday is here early losers
favourite colour(s): Cerulean blue, dark red, orange
favourite flavour(s): Savory, bitter, sour- I'm just not a huge fan of overly sweet flavours?? that's why i like monster cuz it tastes more like battery acid than sugar lmao
favourite genre(s): 100% dark fantasy/sci-fi. Metroid, Berserk and Dark Souls are among some of my most favorite things Ever.
favourite music: Honestly... I've really been getting into Breakcore. Machine Girl makes good stuff.
favourite movie: If I had to pick like a favourite FAVOURITE movie- it's gotta be Corpse Bride.
favourite series: It's Metroid. No contest. when Dread released and it was discovered that Chozo is finally a full-on language, I was ON that shit. I can't do it anymore but I really want to get back on that.
last song: Touch the Daemon by Angels of Liberty. I'm listening to music like literally 95% of the time so it came on like. not even a minute ago- would've been Happy Song by BMTH instead if not lmao
last series: if we're talking generally, I just finished skimming through the first 4 novels of the Destiny Grimoire.
last movie: i literally haven't watched a movie in years. I'm just gonna say the first Sonic movie bc that's the only one that sticks out in recent memory.
currently watching: EPISODE 3 OF TRIGUN STAMPEDE BAYBEEEEE
currently working on: I'm back to grinding up my crafters and gatherers in FFXIV. I just got everything to level 70. Kill me.
tagged by: @earthssprout & @yournamedarling
tagging: I pull a balaclava over your face and put a knife in your hand. mug me. steal it. do it. Do you feel the burning in your heart? Are you ready to meet god?
#🐺 ✧ 🗲 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗻𝗲𝘁𝘀 ▬ OOC#🐺 ✧ 🗲 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝘁 - 𝗦𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗹 ▬ DASH MEME#this was sitting in my drafts for almost a week i'm so sorry awsdtgfh
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-Cards and Creature- (Randomisation in Games) -page 3
Art Study- Destiny (1+2) and Piotr Jabłoński:
Destiny has been an inspiration for my creativity since I first saw it in 2015 as I joined before its first major release of the Taken king way back when. Since, the universe has encapsulated me, intriguing me into a world of Sci-Fi Fantasy that I love to this very day, and I still love seeing it continue on. One of my favorite aspects, one that sadly, but understandably, got removed was the website lore, that we knew as grimoire cards.
These cards had a simple character pose of the enemy race it was designated to or had a piece of artwork of a location or item depending.
Lots of people hated these, but I adored them, I loved seeing the simple but asthetically pleasing model work and being able to flip them to read the information on them, something lost to the game, I loved reading about all these unimportant characters that were minibosses but had entire stories and history behind them, I still loved reading about the Fanatic of Crota who wanted Oryx's, (the taken King,) love so much that he tried to become a surrogate child.
It was simple but pleasing to me, and I'm sad they're gone, the art and work survives, but that feeling of the website is gone.
However, there is a concept artists, whose work has been translate over to physical releases of the grimoire, and the artwork he presents is some of my favorite I’ve ever seen, it strikes you like a freight train, it’s as silhouettes started to walk for themselves.
His work perfectly encapsulates that feeling of finding a journal or bestiary that had been locked in a trunk for a reason. It feels taboo, ancient, disgusting but romantic. This perfectly fits the books what llok back at humanity and the monsters we faced on the way, from seeing Oryx face down Akka, or seeing the beautiful lost vistas of Clovis Bray’s mars and even the simple artwork of the great whirlwind what made the fallen flee their homes.
I, for my game, want a far grittier look that my previous projects. I have always deflated for a far more clean, colourful look, as I have always been far more apt at doing cartoonist illustrations, but I want to further my reach and go for more grit and to try something new, and I’ll try by paying homage to Jabłoński and his stunning conceptual work. But he's not the only artist I want to pull from.
Hirohiko Araki:
Another one of my favorite artists and creator of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, Araki has influenced me alot, when my art isn't soft and clean it’s due to me trying to inhabit his style due to its simplistic yet detailed beauty, even if I can't do it so well. Araki is the only mangaka to have his work displayed in the louvre, and its not confusing why, hes colabritated with Gucci and Vogue and more high brand corporations in the style industry due to his absolutely off the cliff style that looks as if it could fit into reality even when they would look like they were out of time.
I would want to pay homage to Araki in my work, by mixing his and Jabłoński styles together in a blender, taking aspects of Jabłoński’s dark, inky illustrations and trying to fixate it with Araki's colourful and extravagant clothing. I think this would be a great art study as not only would I be progressing my art and looking for a style my game can take on, but I will also be furthering my own skills and will try new equipment to imitate their work.
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❌ What kind of things would end any relationship for them? Is there a history behind why these things bother them? Could they ever take someone back despite this? If so or if not, why?
You have your usual 'no bad people allowed' sign like in most relationships, but I think something specific to her would be to look at her in fear. You wouldn't even have to do it twice she'd completely detach herself from the relationship and refuse to acknowledge attempts to talk about it.
TLDR is WoL powers mess with her sense of self and strength.
Long winded version is she was on a completely different trajectory until her first introduction to Hydaelyn. She had a purpose, to finding out about her own past, but when she had her own echo vision it was like someone took her twine of fate and held it hostage to complete a destiny for someone else.
As the threats got bigger and she became stronger with her blessing, she starts to lose any sense of how strong she really is, or even how she's perceived by others. It scares her in the sense of accidentally hurting someone when she has no intention to, or the fact that she could easily kill or maim most people in a room.
She keeps her grimoire hooked down in a clamp, and each time she has to retrieve it there's this tugging motion that makes her aware she is pulling a weapon out, because she's afraid of what she's capable of. When people fear her, its a mark of how she feels she was taken from her own will, and she is a very real threat if fate decides to turn her loose as a villain.
She's long accepted being the WoL, of course, since she has to go along with the storyline in some fashion, but that look of terror, or worry for her loved ones safety is enough to dredge up these half buried thoughts that she refuses to understand or voice. So, she leaves.
Bonus: Its why I've been so focused on a Zenos relationship (nebulous) with her because he is constantly pointing it out as a good things and she reaaallllyyy doesn't want to hear it or confront it.
Thanks for the ask @sundered-souls!
#ask#marji#i swear im gonna get back into making gifs again instead of screenstills#or maybe ill just get better at editing them#anyways#thanks for the ask this one was something I havent thought about#and now I'm glad I have!#I think zenos n marji would have the most messed up toxic relationship#as friends or lovers#but the development would be freakin choice#anyways thanks for lettin me blab
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OM Character Aesthetics (SFW)
Hello hello lovelies! Just dropping a few aesthetics for all the chars. Requests are still closed, and any requests will be deleted, although my ask box is open to chat! (Luke’s Aesthetic will be platonic)
Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!
Lucifer:
The sound of quills scratching over parchment. Ink, blooming and spreading across its canvas, forming a story of its own. Whispered murmurs of love at midnight. Blood red eyes piercing through the dim moonlight. A familiar melody, yet you can’t seem to find a name for it. Hauntingly empty notes, mourning for a lost one. A vice that can’t be removed, no matter how much one claws at it, yearning for it to disappear. Pride, a double-edged sword.
The welcoming scent of coffee, pitch black. Bitter, yet warming and comforting. Rose petals making their descent, wilting. Red wine swirling in a glass. Tears, dripping down and staining an old letter, weathered by time. An ornate mask, perfected and polished over time. Yet a small crack makes its way to the surface.
Mammon:
Glittering coins, cascading onto the floor, sparkling in the dim light. Brash denial, shielding a tender, starved heart. A thinly veiled mask, waiting to be removed. Yearning and infatuation, unvoiced feelings. Reaching out a hand, but being restricted by chains of fearing for the unknown. Shining trinkets, a token of affection. The assurance of a protector.
Angelic eyes, a taste of ambrosia. The swipe of a credit card. The sound of tokens, sliding across a poker table. A subtle glance, hiding your hand. Experienced, calculating eyes, watching for the slightest giveaway. Practiced movements, revealing a complex strategy. But there’s a small opening, a chance to strike, unraveling a soft hesitance.
Leviathan:
The noise of a PC starting up. Winning a battle royal. Ocean waves, lapping against the shore. Diving into crystal clear waters, the water welcoming you. Nostalgic video game soundtracks, bringing memories of joyous accomplishments. Hesitant, tentative touches. Frustration at oneself for not taking enough chances.
Vivid coral structures, housing various marine life; a hidden kingdom. Feeling the water pull you in, beckoning for your company. Anime OSTs, bringing a sense of life, or death. Watching your favorite character earn their happy ending, a sense of redemption. A brief spark, fingers brushing against each other. A glimmer of hope, in the vast, dark sea.
Satan:
Old parchment, soft, weathered corners pliant in your touch. Crackling fires, the comforting scent of smoke enveloping you. Herbal tea, spreading warmth and healing, felt through your bones. Feline eyes, playful and charming, drawing you closer. The soft mewl of a kitten. Soft paws grasping your hand in their own. A wish to be free from one’s family, one’s heritage. Resentment.
Soft ambience in a forest, welcoming you. Innocent games of footsie under a table. Poetry written in the depths of the night, hidden away from prying eyes. The faintest hint of a fang, a reminder. A steeled mask, refined and elegant. The search for a sense of self. Layers of deception, hiding an unsure soul. A path to acceptance.
Asmodeus:
The sweet, light floral scent of roses. Fabrics rustling, being selected and judged. A steady hand, moving brushes with precision. Poised, sculpted appearances, invisible cracks of insecurity, hidden from harsh judgement. Flirtatious touches, yearning for something meaningful, perhaps even moreso, than romance. Friendship. Platonic affection, friendly hugs.
The clean scent of skincare, the cooling sensation of a cucumber mask across your skin. Shimmering jewels, delicate chains lacing around your neck. A chance encounter, meeting charming stranger, yet to be seen again. Acceptance, assurance that you’re enough. Loving someone as is.
Beelzebub:
Warmth, safety in another’s arms. Comfort food, memories of a happier, nostalgic past. Tasting the batter before it’s baked. The scent of fresh baked bread, permeating your senses, filling your home. Making double batches, yet still needing more. Indulgence in your deepest desires. The sizzling of a grill, promises of food.
Repressed grief, unresolved guilt. Mourning for a loved one. Reconciliation, finding healing. A silent promise of loyalty and protection. Warm encouragement, eyes devoid of judgement. Twilight eyes, filling with love and happiness. Loving wholeheartedly, devoted so long as you both shall live.
Belphegor:
Grief-fueled rage, blind hatred. Helplessness, being bound by your own kin. A flash of hope. Human. A skillful puppeteer, pulling strings to his will, letting a story of loss and anguish unravel. A cruel act of murder, dragged out for his own sick delight. Witnessing rebirth. Realization. Regret. Watching as you heal, afraid to approach you once more. Aching for forgiveness.
A final offer, an olive branch. Whether to take it or not, is your decision. The lull of sleep, pulling you deeper into a different reality altogether. Lazy mornings, the comforter and promise of sleep, tempts you. Comforting scents of lilac and chamomile, blanketing you in a drowsy embrace. A dreamweaver.
Diavolo:
Learning. Developing empathy. Emotional development, struggling to grasp emotions and relationships. Loneliness, yearning for company and friendship. A wish to be free, to embrace life without care. Diving in head first into life, treasuring the journey and experiences. The luxury of being free of responsibility, and having boundless energy to do so. Chained to responsibilities, a kingdom.
Childlike joy, curiosity in your surroundings. Rapturous laughter, echoing throughout a castle’s ancient foundation. Golden, piercing eyes, holding adoration and fascination. A chance at peace for all three realms, a treaty. Regal and powerful. Delight in the simple things. A boyish smile, followed by fleeting kisses.
Barbatos:
Shrouded with mystery. Never quite close enough to decipher. Being held at arms length, a protective measure. Burdened with visions of the future. Servitude, loyalty to one’s master, a butler. Practiced movements, wiping over surfaces, serving a meal. Hidden feelings, masked professionalism, perfected over centuries.
Lingering touches, gloved hands touching your bare ones a second longer. Steaming tea, easing your stance and providing welcoming warmth. Pressing a stamp into melted wax, marking a letter. Polished china. Ancient grimoires, holding power and secrets beyond measure. A charming smile, an offered hand, promising more than one could wish for.
Simeon:
Prophecies of the future, albeit limited. Elegant writing of a script, painting a story of the ages. Carefully orchestrating a plot, extreme irritation at a single mistake. Having one’s own will. Unknown loyalties. Standing alone, with no clear master. Boundless wisdom, freedom to choose one’s own fate.
Soft healing, guidance. Words of honey, soothing and ever so sweet. Doe-like eyes, welcoming and open. Heavenly ties, an angelic gaze, wishing for your well-being. Blindingly white wings, powerful and protective. An angel, bound by not even the heavens themselves, devoted to you.
Solomon:
Unknown intentions, a loyalty to one’s own kind. Unlabelled potions, bubbling and frothing, almost with their own wills. Strange concoctions, inedible to most, except for the being who made them. Mysterious alliances, a lust for power and control. Friendly and teasing, yet distant at the same time. Cautious, weary from time’s hold on humankind.
Teasing smirks, playful winks. The scent of incense, and something else you can’t quite identify. Whispers deep into the night, ancient tongues being revived once more. Ancient glyphs, glowing and encompassing the room in a protective spell. A kiss on the corner of your lips, a taste of what’s yet to come.
Luke
Child-like innocence. Biased views of light and dark, evil and good. Gradual understanding, smoke-tinted glasses clearing anew. Seeing life for what it is, being able to laugh freely. Black and white, swirling to paint the world in strokes of grey. Learning how to choose your own path, to grab destiny by the reigns.
Sunshine, reflecting on and drawing in sunflowers. Flour, dusting footprints. Sugary confections, on display for all to marvel at. Fresh-baked pastries, reminders of childhood. Sweet frosting, artfully spun and woven onto a cake. Pure white lilies, a vow of protection and future guidance.
#obey me#obey me swd#obey me x reader#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#obey me aesthetic#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me barbatos#obey me headcanons
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Anonymous asked:
What's gonna suck about Ephemeral is that if the identity reveal happens, Marinette's gonna let her feelings for Adrien takeover while as Ladybug causing her to probably screw up more in the field. I couldn't even bother watching Cat Blanc and Desperada because how Adrien focused they are while Marinette is obviously distracted by Adrien as her partner. I wanted to gag when watching Ladybug say "My prince" before the world ending cataclysm. As if Marinette needed more torture!
I feel like if every time the endgame ship is on-screen, we’re dreading how it’s gonna go wrong, and the best moments are when Marinette is just doing her hobbies and all that cool stuff, there’s a problem. The latter should still be true regardless but the former is a serious issue.
Anonymous asked:
Oh no! They wouldn't would they? Are they going to pull the "Oooh plot twist! We planned this from he very beginning, oh yes we did!" Remember during the shows production when Felix had a curse that prevented him from removing the ring! And he had to get a true loves kiss (or normal but sincere kiss, not sure which one) from Ladybug to break the spell! Do you think they'll do this asspull as an excuse to force the relationship even closer together. I mean they can use this malarkey to force Su Han into complacency since there isn't much he'd be able to do with a practically divine curse. And Ladybug can be forced into ANOTHER GUILTTRIP because if she only allowed herself to fall for him sooner all of these issues would have been solved.
As much as I don't want to say it I can totally see them pulling this out. Especially since Su Han is the only adult source of Miraculous Information Ladybug has left besides the Grimoire, which is still only useful to be a plot device at this point.
I agree. After all, it seems like they think this “they NEED each other” is romantic or something, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they pulled... maybe not that, but something to force the whole “destiny” thing even more.
Anonymous asked:
Imagine if at the end of this all, they really don't end up together. Not only would that be a ballsy narrative choice but it could also be the one ending where no one is pleased.
Honestly, I’d be pleased. Maybe not pleased that it all amounted to “nothing” exactly (and the two side ships got cut for it as well), but I’d be interested to see the fandom just explode.
Like, how funny would it be to see the people who all whined about us Adrimi/Lukanette shippers because “it’s not endgame!!!” backpedal and try to excuse their ship with, “w-well, we were just screwed over by the writing!!”
And us just, “first time?”
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GRIMOIRE: TALE OF TALES. DAY 13.
── summary. the circus is a mysterious place, don’t believe everything you see.
── roles. circus performers!ateez, circus performer!reader
── genres. circus, supernatural, established poly relationship
── word count. 4.3k
── warnings. cussing, slight harassment (nothing too serious, goes with the next warning), the word “freak” gets used, brief nudity (nonsexual), getting eaten alive, blood, some body gore at the very end
── main menu.
── message. the inspiration and dedication for this story goes to @seacottons so credit for some aspects of my story goes to them. their’s is way better than mine please go read it!
“now, i hoped you all enjoyed the show but unfortunately we have reached the end of the show,” the house lets out a chorus of disappointment making hongjoong laugh lightheartedly. “but do not be sad, for i have one last performance for you all,” he says, quickly getting the crowd to quiet down.
you stood off to the side near the entrance that all the performers had used to enter and exit, along with all the props that they had used. your sparkling blue one piece feeling scratchy on your skin and the fishnet tights are cutting into your thighs. no matter how many times you have performed, you still can’t help but feel nervous. thankfully, you feel a set of hands coming to rest on your shoulders.
“you look beautiful, my flower. blue is definitely your color,” san’s voice is deep sounding and his breath hits your ear as he speaks right into it.
“you say that about every single color i wear,” you reply back teasingly, you’re glad san decided to come talk to you because you are starting to feel a little less nervous.
“because it’s true,” he says back and presses a kiss to your cheek, “break a leg, y/n.”
“ladies and gentlemen! i present to you… wonderland’s flower!” hongjoong announces and you make your way over to where hongjoong was. you allowed a smile to grace your face as the house clapped for you. there were a few loud wolf whistles that sounded throughout the tent, but you ignored them as it was common by now to hear them.
hongjoong holds a white gloved hand out to you which you happily take and you watch his eyes flash an inhumanly blue before it fades and he hands you the microphone. he kisses your own gloved hand before letting it go and stepping away before making his exit from the ring.
the lights dimmed, letting a single light shine solely on you as the music began to play throughout the tent.
it was whirring away in the distance
the faint light
i'm thinking of moving
there like there is not
as if asking who you are
when it blinks
i have my eyes closed
pray to meet you
you watch as the crowd’s eyes all begin to change. their excited expressions now turning tired as you continue to sing.
there, along the bright light
we now two
you came to me on the shining day
a long pain
even with darkness
we gon' light up
towards farther shining places
we gonna shine-er
getting closer one step at a time
the closer you go
we have confidence
it's the original one
you felt your lips twitch into a faint smile as you watch small balls of light start to form from everyone in the crowd and leave their bodies.
my shine light
true light came with destiny
looking at each other in the night sky
starlight
the moment i looked at each other
the dark nights are falling
we shine in it
“ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, i hope you had a wonderful time here in the promised wonderland,” you began saying. your voice echoing into the heads of those watching you, “but i’m afraid this will be our last show. please make sure to gather all belongings and parents make sure you don’t lose your kids. because once you leave this tent, you will forget everything you saw.”
you began singing once again, skipping the verse that was supposed to come next due to you making your exit speech.
in this dream i met in a dream
fantasy
i do not want to stop
this fantasy i dreamed
i can not breathe
here we let them in
take a deep breath
new dimensional trip
you sang the rest of the song without pausing and as soon as you stopped and the music faded, everyone got up at once and made their way out of the tent without a word. once the last person was out, the large curtains of the tent closed and that’s when you finally turned to exit the tent.
the workers were quick to start packing things onto the train and hongjoong’s booming voice only fueled them to go faster. props, animals, and equipment all loaded into their respective train cars. you rushed over to your own train car you shared with hongjoong and seonghwa, and was happy to see the eldest of the performers sitting at his small desk.
“seonghwa,” you earn his attention and he sends you a smile as you begin to take off your show outfit. “did i do a good job tonight?” you asked him, making him smile at you as he nods his head.
“of course you did. hongjoong is very proud of you, my flower. he’s very pleased with the souls you collected from tonight,” he tells you, his eyes following you intently as you move around the car in order to put on more comfortable clothing.
you take this opportunity to look at him to find that he was still in his show outfit except with his jacket hanging over his chair and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.
“it’s not nice to stare, y/n,” he teases, making you flush a little as you look from him in order to button up your own shirt. well... it was actually yunho, but since his shirts are so silky and airy that you can’t help but to steal and wear them.
you let out a small laugh as you feel a wave of tiredness wash over your form. performing into front of big audiences like that always did tire you out quickly. a bad side effect that happens when you hypnotize humans. you walk over to seonghwa before straddling his lap and the two of you look at each other with matching love-filled eyes before you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder after kissing him.
“i forget that performing wears you out,” seonghwa says, although you felt it was more to himself than to you, so only let out a soft hm-mm in response. “go lay down on the bed, dear,” he says rubbing your back but you only whine.
“i want to rest here, in your lap and arms,” you say and seonghwa is quickly to allow you to do as you please before he continues going back to what he was doing before you entered. you close your eyes letting out a deep breath as you allow sleep to consume you.
hongjoong finally enters the car an hour later after making sure everything was loaded and everyone was where they were supposed to be. soon enough the train starts to move which causes him to move forward a little bit. he’s greeted by the sight of you sleeping soundly in seonghwa’s arms as he counts out the money they had earned for tonight’s show.
slipping his jacket off, hongjoong walks over and presses a kiss to the older man’s cheek before kissing the crown of your head.
“tonight was a great show, yeah?” seonghwa spoke after several minutes of them sitting in silence. hongjoong was unbuttoning his shirt which slowly revealed his lean chest that seonghwa couldn’t help but admire.
“it was,” hongjoong began, “the house was full of excitement which always makes for a good meal,” he adds and puts on a clean shirt and pants. he lays down on the bed, feeling tired from having to host the show and make everything went smoothly for everyone else.
hongjoong was about to drift off to sleep himself before the door to the car slid open so loudly and harshly that it scared hongjoong and made him sit up, but also startled you awake making you cling onto seonghwa for comfort.
“wooyoung, what the hell is wrong with you!” seonghwa furrows his eyebrows as he turns to the acrobatic who is rushing into the car over to him and you.
“y/n! y/n! y/n! me and the others are gonna play pirates and we need you,” wooyoung was pulling on your arm in an attempt to get you to agree and stand up quicker.
“no way! i don’t like playing pirates with you, you always play unfairly,” you say ripping your arm away from him. the blond pouts at you before letting out an annoyed sigh.
“you can be with yunho and yeosang for this game,” wooyoung says, trying to get you to agree to come with him. he can see how you think about it for a second before moving off of seonghwa’s lap to stand up. wooyoung beams at you before grabbing your hand and dragging you with him out of the car and into the next one.
“why didn’t he ask us to play?” hongjoong asks after realizing that the younger male didn’t bother asking or acknowledging the eldest two.
“because i hate that game and you’re too competitive,” seonghwa says as he turns back to writing.
hongjoong huffs a little bit before speaking, “am not.”
“are too.” hongjoong only rolled his eyes before laying back to finally get some sleep.
when the train arrived in the next town a week later, mingi was quick to drag you and yunho off the train and into town in order to explore. you were a little sad he didn’t give you a chance to give jongho a goodbye kiss, but you had promised to spend more time with him when you returned.
walking through the new town, you couldn’t help smile and laugh at how happy mingi seemed to be. he always enjoyed exploring the towns you all stopped at, it was a great way to learn more about the world you all forced to be a part of.
you were honestly glad mingi was always so excited to explore. finding his curiosity cute and the way his eyes sparkled when he learned something new always warmed your heart. you on the other hand weren’t really that interested in learning about the humans and their world. you were happy as long as you were with your lovers and not having to stay in one place for too long.
“should we get some cookies for the others?” mingi’s question snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to him with a nod. he smiles before quickly running to where the bakery was with you and yunho trailing behind him.
“what were you thinking about?” yunho’s voice is quiet as he leans closer to your ear as you both wait outside for mingi.
“how cute mingi is when we come to a new town,” you say and yunho laughs nodding agreement.
“i know. his face lights up and his smile is so big. it makes me want to protect him forever,” yunho says and you can’t help but agree with him as well.
the two of you watch as workers from the train start appearing around the streets in order to promote you all. you look to see the familiar large red and white tent peeking up over the tree line before turning back just as mingi exits the bakery, a bag of cookies in his hand.
“alright! let’s go back!” mingi cheers before the three of you go back to the train and the circus that was quickly being set up.
a few days later and it was time for another show. some people had showed up early in order to look around to see what else the circus had to offer and you and san walked around, arm in arm, to make sure everything was going well outside.
the two of you were about to go back to the others to prepare before you noticed a group of guys crowding around one of the workers.
“san…” you trail off tugging on his sleeve and pointing towards the worker. san glares before making his way over to see what was going on. you couldn’t help but follow after him, because the last thing you need was for him to cause unwanted trouble right before the show.
“what’s wrong with you freak?” one of the guys asked, pointing his index finger harshly into the worker’s shoulder. “does the freak not know how to talk?” he questions, making the other guys snicker.
“hey!” san calls out earning their attention, “can i help you guys with something?”
“huh? who are you, punk?”
“i’m one of the owners of this circus,” san said as he stopped walking and you stopped right behind him. you made eye contact with the worker and gestured for them to quickly leave which they did.
you were glad that you saw what was going on before it took a turn for the worst. most of the workers didn’t know how to speak any of the human languages, so if they spoke then it would come out as an incoherent mess to human ears which would have further provoked these guys. once the worker was out of sight, you turned back to san and the guys only to make eye contact with one of them. the guy smirked at you, looking at you up and down which prompted you to roll your eyes at him.
“...and i would appreciate it if you didn’t bother my workers. if you need help, go to the help desk at the entrance, not someone who is trying to do their job. and i would also like for your friends to stop gawking at my lady,” san’s jaw is clenched at the sight of having these guys stare at you.
“why can’t i look at her? she’s probably just another unwanted freak, so there’s nothing wrong with looking,” the what you assumed to be the leader of the group says with his friends nodding in agreement. “that’s all you circus people are good for anyway.”
“you watch your fucking mouth,” san says, getting ready to charge at the guy but you hold him back.
“san, they aren’t worth it. come on, we need to get ready,” you say, making san huff in anger as he pulls away from you and turns around, his hand coming out to guide you away from the unwanted and troublesome eyes. their laugh echoing through your skull the further you walk away.
“i’m gonna kill those fucking humans,” san says as he practically rips his shirt off as he tries to take it off. some of his buttons fly off and roll around on the floor. you frown as you watch one roll underneath the bed.
“san, it’s fine. don’t worry about them, after tonight we’ll never see them again and they even remember us,” you say sitting down on the bed, his outfit in your hands waiting to hand it off to him.
“you didn’t see how they were fucking you with their eyes. fucking humans, i hate them so damn much, it kills me. fuck!” he says, eyes burning red as he punches the wall next to him.
“san! calm down!” you hiss, standing up, you can’t see them but you’re sure your eyes are also glowing a golden color. that’s what happens when you let your emotions overwhelm you. san glares at you before letting out an annoyed sigh as turns away from you.
he takes his shirt off, tossing it to the side before undoing his pants and sliding them off, his underwear comes off soon after. you honestly never understood why he and wooyoung – you’re pretty sure yeosang does it too – preferred going commando, but you assumed it only felt comfortable or something. he turns around and neither of you say a word as you watch him slip into his outfit. his red, black, and silver leotard fitting him perfectly and he moves to put his shoes on and before he could leave, you quickly reach out and stop him. he looks at you as you push him down onto the bed before hovering over him.
“don’t leave me upset,” you say looking at him, he watches as your eyes become rimmed in the golden color. his hand comes to card through your hair before he gently brings you down for your lips to meet his.
the two of you end up kissing until yunho comes in and startles the both of you with his loud voice. “come on san, go finish getting ready with wooyoung,” he says as you move to sit up so san can go get his makeup and hair done.
once san is gone, you notice yunho is halfway dressed. him not needing anything over the top as his ‘magic’ does all the extravagant work for him. he comes to sit down next to you and you immediately let your head rest on his shoulder.
“one of the workers told me and the others about those humans that were bothering them and how you and san handled the situation.”
“you mean the situation that almost caused san to rip them apart? then yeah sure, it was handled,” you say sarcastically making the male chuckle a little bit.
“i’ll make sure to keep an eye out,” he says before standing up and turns to look at you. his eyes immediately squint as he takes in what you’re wearing. “is that my shirt?” he asks and you look at him in surprise.
you shake your head, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say looking away from him, making him only laugh again.
“if you say so my flower,” he says, leaning down to kiss you before turning and leaving. you bid each other bye before he closes the door leaving you alone in the train car.
you find yourself thinking for a few moments before you stand up and make your way out of the train car and over to the worker than was in charge of the music that would play during your performance. the worker immediately turned to you, sensing your form approaching them as they bowed slightly in greeting.
“play number five today,” you told them and they nodded making the quick adjustments that were needed in order for the right track to play. you thank them and they bow slightly once more before you turn to leave in order to get ready.
you once more hear the echoing of laughter as you walk towards your train car knowing that it would be the last time they laughed.
“you’re... you’re performing that song tonight?” yeosang’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you turn to look at him. he was already changed out of his outfit, having been one of the first ones to perform tonight, but his hair was still pulled back in a small ponytail that it is usually in whenever he performs. he likes his hair long, but the hassle of seeing while performing is the only downside he often says. “did those humans really piss you off that much? or is it because they made san upset?”
“i think you already know,” you answer, making him grin as he lets out a small hum.
“now, i hoped you all enjoyed the show but unfortunately we have reached the end of the show,” the familiar words ring throughout the tent and the usual response from the house is heard. “but do not be sad, for i have one last performance for you all,” he says, and the house immediately goes quiet as he speaks.
yeosang bids you good luck before quickly disappearing and you turn to see your dancers all lined up and statue-like. if you didn’t know what they were, you would have thought they were statues. they wore all black in contrast to your silver one, and black silk cloths covered their eyes… well to be honest they don’t have eyes so the cloth is a way to not expose the whole circus to the humans.
“ladies and gentlemen! i present to you… wonderland’s flower!” the crowd cheers as you take graceful steps into the ring in order to meet hongjoong. he looked at you the most beautiful thing to come from existence as he took in your appearance. the familiar and spine chilling blue rimming in his eyes and his smile grew as he saw yours sparkle with gold.
hongjoong kisses your hand like he always does before turning to make his exit, the dancers passing him as the come to stand behind you.
the lights dim down greatly before they slowly change into a deep artificial blue color that drowns you and the ring in the color. your eyes scan the crowd before landing on the men from earlier who are undoubtedly looking at you like a piece of meat. you hear ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as the music starts.
as the intro begins you remain in place, the dancers effortlessly dancing to music like it's the only thing they know how to do. the crowd watches in awe at how they move before they snap their attention to one, once you begin to sing.
way that i move
got the whole world watchin’
i’m in a mood
and i don’t wanna hide it
blue chills and white shivers
i’m ice cold, baby
on an ocean of glitter
you always did think the lyrics had an odd tone to it considering the only time you really only used this song.
it rains out of control
these chains don’t have a hold on me
don’t say, i’m a sinner
i’m ice cold, baby
on an ocean of glitter
you watch as the audience begins to lose the light to their eyes as they continue to watch and listen to you. your voice echoing and throbbing and crashing around in their heads, your eyes slowly turning gold as they stand out from the blue light. the only people in the audience that aren’t affected are the four men who slowly begin to notice the change in atmosphere in the house.
they watch in shock at how balls of light leave all the audience members and disappear to a place they can’t see from their seats.
feelin’ the danger in every motion
don’t be a stranger to your emotion
truth hurts but lies wither
i’m ice cold, baby
on an ocean of glitter
“ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, i hope you had a wonderful time here in the promised wonderland,” you began saying. your voice echoing into the heads of those watching you. the four men beginning to slowly grow fearful of what was happening around them, “but i’m afraid this will be our last show. please make sure to gather all belongings and parents make sure you don’t lose your kids. because once you leave this tent, you will forget everything you saw. expect... you four,” you point to them and you watch their eyes go wide at how you pointed to them.
you near the end of the song and suddenly like always, the audience all get up silently and leave in a quiet fashion. the curtain closes behind the last of the audience and the four males can only watch in horror as they try their best to stand up and run away but it was useless.
“you four… better run for your life.”
you step onto the train car that you share with hongjoong and seonghwa a happy smile on your face as you walk over to your eldest lover and drape your arms over his shoulders from behind. seonghwa notices from the small desk mirror the blood on your face as you lick your lips, eyes full on gold making him smirk at your reflection.
“did you have fun?” he asks although he is sure he knows the answer. you nod as you straighten up and walk over to change your clothes. “it’s been a while since i heard that song,” he says as he hums the familiar tune while bobbing his head from side to side. you laugh at him finding this little action cute. “i forget how scary you can get whenever someone upsets one of us.”
“of course, no one upsets my loves and gets away with it,” you tease with a smile. you smile absentmindedly as you sit on the bed thinking of the four males that had upset san earlier today.
“it had been a while since the dancers ate, no?” seonghwa asks and you nod your head thinking of the eyeless statue humanoids that usually remain in one of the last few cars on the train.
“they’ll eat good tonight,” you said as you twirled a piece of your hair just as hongjoong entered the car. he greeted seonghwa with a brief kiss before he began to change his clothes. you, however, were too lost in thought about what was going on in the last train car that you couldn’t help the sick looking smile and laugh that escaped past your lips.
“no! no! please no, god!” one of the males screamed as he watched as the eyeless creatures ripped apart his friends with their inhumanely sharpe teeth and equally as dangerous claws. one of the creatures snapped their head in his direction at the sounds of his cries. they stood up and made their way over to him in slow steps that made the guy coward in fear as he tried to scoot away from the monster that was nearing him. the creature let out a hissful-screech before lunging at the guy and ripping into his throat.
you continued to laugh and smile hysterically at the thought of the humans being ripped apart. the laughter no longer echoing in your mind, but instead screams and begs for mercy.
#grimoire tale of tales#grimoire.#poly ateez x reader#poly ateez#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez blurbs#ateez scenarios#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez circus au#ateez hongjoong#ateez san#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez jongho#ateez yeosang#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#dream episode.
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Run Away | 1
It is so much easier to get people to hate something than to believe.
Part of the Grimoire Series
➴ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader
➴ Rating: R-16
➴ Word Count: 3.6k
➴ Genre: Twisted Fairytales, Yandere
➴ Trigger Warning: uuuuuuh death, uuuuh murder, Y/N is annoying she gets kidnapped a lot but at least she loves soobin yk, blood, Soobin shoots someone in the head, uhhhh there’s like a slight massacre scene just tread lightly, time skips tbh, y/n isn’t a slut but somehow gets slut-shamed idk man
The sand was white—almost as white as the snow on her windowsill back home.
The sound of the waves hitting the beach softly was alluring, the smell of fresh forest air was apparent.
Y/N yelped as her feet landed on the ground, crumpling as she felt the final remains of pixie dust wear off of her body.
Hands encircled her waist, tugging her up to a stand.
“Are you alright?” a deep voice asked, lips brushing her ear as she burned the brightest shade of red.
Y/N turned her head to lock gazes with him.
His jet black hair, brown eyes and innocent smile was almost hypnotizing under the moonlight as he gazed at her in childlike wonder.
His tall stature and graceful movements were almost reminiscent to a rabbit—innocent and harmless.
His lips curled to a smirk as Y/N cleared her throat, ripping her gaze from the boy.
“Fine,” she squeaked as she saw her brother, Junseo, fall in a heap beside her.
Soobin’s head turned to Junseo, only staring as his grip tightened on Y/N’s waist.
“Are you alright?” Soobin repeated, to Junseo this time.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Junseo muttered, standing up.
Soobin gave a firm nod, gesturing to the forest.
“Well,” he smiled. “Welcome to Neverland.”
One month later
Y/N found herself next to Soobin by the campfire, sitting side-by-side and whispering to each other about nothing and everything at the same time.
Y/N settled in nicely—for only being the only human girl in the area, she was also the most protected, with Soobin himself ensuring her safety as much as he could with a hand either holding hers or on her waist.
In Neverland, the princess finally got the freedom she searched long and hard for—in Soobin’s kingdom.
She’s never wanted to be a queen as bad as she did now.
“Can you tell me a story?” A small boy gaped at Y/N from where she sat next to Soobin, who only smiled.
In her time in Neverland, she often found herself playing house with Soobin—taking care of the lost boys like one would a little brother, or perhaps a son.
Hansung, one of the lost boys’ new recruits, was an 8-year-old boy—naturally, he was Y/N’s favorite one to dote on, if Y/N’s giggle and affectionate hair pats to him was anything to go by.
“Of course I can tell you something, Hansung!” Y/N grinned running a hand through his hair, smiling as the young boy yawned.
“Once there was a princess, born to a king and a queen. Hair as black as night, skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood. She was the most beautiful in the land,” Y/N said, her voice soothing.
Soobin’s eyes locked his gaze on her, watching while she runs her hands through the hair of the small child sitting by her feet as she told him a story.
He cracked a smile, loving eyes raking over the princess as she rambled on, soon finishing her story to a sleeping child.
“No one knows where the princess is. Now, she’s just—“
“Gone,” Soobin said nonchalantly, leaning on his head as he smiled at the girl. “Dead, probably,”
Y/N snorted suddenly, smiling as a lost boy came and picked up the small child to bring to their sleeping areas.
“Yeah?” Y/N chuckled. “The queen probably sent someone to slice her head clean off,”
Soobin laughed, hand reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind Y/N’s ear.
“She’s trying to kill the wrong girl,” Soobin laughed, making Y/N snap her head up to him in surprise.
Soobin cupped her cheek with a delicate smile, running his thumb over her temple.
Y/N blushed a bright red, but smiled nonetheless as she leaned her head on his hand.
“Are you saying I should get murdered?” Y/N raised her eyebrow teasingly.
“Yeah. if they’re killing the most beautiful woman across the galaxies, they should carve your heart out,” Soobin snorted, trailing his hand down from her cheek to lay his palm flat on her chest—on the exact place where her heart was.
His fingers lightly pressed downn, smiling as he felt the increasing speed of her heartbeat.
“I can feel it beating,” Soobin whispered.
“Well, it’s supposed to do that.”
“Not this fast,” Soobin replied.
“I never did understand why it always seems to do that when I’m with you,” Y/N countered, breath hitching as Soobin bit his lip.
“Is that so?”
Y/N cracked a small smile as she leaned closer, her lips almost brushing the boy’s.
Soobin’s hands slid down to her waist, tightening his grip as he moved to crash his lips on the princess’.
If it wasn’t for the severed head of a wild boar being plopped nearby, he would have been devouring her where they currently stood.
Y/N flinched, yelping as pulling away as she heard the squelch of the blood from the offending object—hands clutching Soobin’s neck as she turned over to whoever threw the severed head.
“Junseo?”
Junseo sighed, hands full of blood as he took a seat next to her in exhaustion, a bloodied axe in his hand.
“We got dinner,” Junseo grumbled as another band of lost boys entered, carrying a headless boar.
“Meat!” Y/N gasped, clapping her hands and turning over to a smiling Soobin. “I’ll make you your favorite food!”
“Okay,” Soobin laughed, sighing lovingly.
“Pan,” Junseo said in a firm tone, his gaze trailing up to the boy. “We’ve been here for a month, may we go home soon?”
Soobin’s eyes danced with an unknown emotion as he smiled.
“Has it been a month?” Soobin laughed. “Splendid, let’s have a feast—this calls for a celebration!”
“What’s happening at home, Pan?” Junseo asked inquisitively, making Soobin frown.
“Like I keep saying, hyung—Please do call me Soobin instead of Pan,” Soobin hummed, his gaze falling back to observe Y/N lovingly.
The said girl didn’t notice as she was too busy sending a warning glare to her brother.
This, however, was promptly ignored.
“We’ve been stuck here for months now, Pan,” Junseo demanded, getting more frustrated with the boy who hid his sister behind his figure protectively. “If you’re not bringing us home, then at least tell us what’s happening at home,”
“Us?” Y/N hissed. “If you wanna go home, go. I’m not leaving,”
From where she stood behind Soobin, Y/N shot her brother a challenging gaze.
After a beat of silence, Soobin sighed—his figure relaxing as Y/N’s hands reached out to intertwine with his.
“Uh, there’s a nationwide search going around for the two of you, still—but Prince Beomgyu is married now, because he found the lost princess while looking for Y/N,” Soobin said, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “The, uh, princess in your story, Y/N,”
Y/N smiled fondly.
“He’s married now?” Y/N gaped. “A girl wanted to be with him? Are they really in love?”
“I’d say they are,” Soobin smiled, humming in thought. “Oh, uh, Prince Yeonjun is throwing a welcoming ball for Prince Beomgyu and his new wife in a few weeks,”
“Our parents,” Junseo said gruffly. “Is there anything they’re doing to find us?”
Soobin pursed his lips, sighing.
“Not after Beomgyu’s marriage.” Soobin smiled sadly. “They stopped then, and then they started grooming your little brother for the throne, Junseo,”
Junseo clenched his fists, standing up angrily.
“No, they can’t do that,” Junseo hissed.
“Junseo—” Y/N spoke, stopping when her brother turned to her livid.
“I’m the king! I’m supposed to take that throne—you’re supposed to be beside Beomgyu, not stay here in this forest with—“ Junseo stopped, looking at Soobin. “—that.”
“Junseo,” Y/N raised her voice, eyes flaring. “Don’t talk to him like that,”
“Y/N,” Junseo hissed. “this boy is keeping you from your destiny. Our family loves us—they’re not just going to stop looking for us,”
“Why not? Beomgyu’s already married—he doesn’t need me anymore. He already has a girl to love and to fuck—and I’m happy for him, really—but now, I lost my purpose to our family, which means they don’t care about me anymore.” Y/N argued. “Junseo, face it. They’re leaving us for dead,”
“No, no,” Junseo denied angrily. “I’m still here, I’m his eldest son,”
“Junseo, even—“
Y/N yelped as Junseo stepped forward, harshly grabbing Y/N’s wrist and tugging it roughly.
“No, you listen. I’m not supposed to be Prince Beomgyu’s bitch like you are—I’m going to be the king,” Junseo stated. “They might stop looking for you, but they will be looking for me,”
Y/N cracked a sardonic smile, leaning forward.
“There’s a spare for a reason,” she hissed, tugging her hand out of Junseo’s grip and backing away towards Soobin.
“Lay a hand on her again, and I’ll cut it off,” Soobin’s voice boomed, gently pushing Y/N behind him once again.
Junseo chuckled in amusement, looking back up at Soobin.
“Is that a threat, Pan?”
Soobin’s fingers flexed, his hands ready to reaching for a sword as Junseo reached for his axe.
“Pan—“
“Breach! Hook’s men killed our guards! They’re coming to kill us all!”
Before any of them could reply, Y/N squeaked.
“Bin?”
Soobin whirled around, eyes widening as he saw Y/N—a dagger pressed to her already bleeding neck.
“One move, little boy,” Hook hissed, pressing the dagger deeper into Y/N’s neck. “and I’ll slice it,”
Soobin didn’t speak, his eyes frantic as Hook’s men came to surround them.
Y/N winced in pain, keeping as still as she can as she felt the blood drip down from her throat.
“I didn’t know you had a woman, Pan.” Hook hummed, licking the shell of Y/N’s ear teasingly—his eyes trained on the tall boy.
“Get your filthy tongue away from her—“
“He said not a step,” another voice hummed out, making Soobin turn to a boy with bright red hair walking over.
“Taehyun,” Soobin hissed, holding his sword up as he saw his former lost boy.
“Hi, hyung.” Taehyun smiled, waving in mock amusement as he glanced at Y/N. “Oh, wow. A princess? Such high standards, hyung,”
Taehyun’s eyes trailed over to Junseo, tilting his head and smiling.
“Hi there!”
“I hope Hook’s treating you well, you sick son of a bitch,” Soobin growled, glaring at Taehyun.
“Oh, yeah. I got promoted—Right-hand man. Can you believe?” Taehyun laughed as his smile got wider. “Besides, Hook has a son. It’s so amazing—the feeling of having a genuine friend. A brother,”
Soobin’s eyes flashed with some unidentified emotion—gone as quick as it came.
“Let her go,” Soobin breathed angrily, holding himself back as Y/N’s eyes locked with him.
The dagger pressed deeper and deeper on Y/N’s neck, making the girl bite her lip in pain—deep enough to draw blood there as well.
Soobin’s eyes got even darker.
“What’s your name, dear?” Hook asked.
“Y/N.” she replied, voice low and soft.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Hook said.
Before anyone else could say anything, the world turned black.
Y/N gasped, panting as she woke up and eyes frantic as she glanced around the cabin.
Wait—cabin? That wasn’t Soobin’s?
She sat up and gaped, feeling slightly sick as she felt the slow rocking of the floor.
She was on a boat.
On a boat with—
“Good, you’re up,”
Y/N’s eyes shot up, locking with two figures inside the room with her.
The one who spoke was a tall boy, maybe a year or or two younger than Soobin—with kind eyes trying its hardest to glare, and a kind face exerting maximum effort to seem scary.
Y/N sat up slightly, her eyes trailing over to the red-head behind the boy.
Taehyun, if she remembered correctly.
The boy only shot the girl an amused smile, raising his eyebrow.
If Taehyun was here, then the boy must be—
“You must be Hook’s son,” Y/N spoke delicately, eyeing the dagger sheathed by the boy’s waist.
“I’m Kai,” the boy said, trying to deepen his voice to seem more intimidating.
He was as intimidating as a newborn penguin.
“Hi, Kai,” Y/N said softly, smiling at the boy who seemed to relax. “Can I know where I am?”
“You’re at the Jolly Roger, Captain Hook’s ship,” Kai replied. “Look, we know Pan—“
“Soobin,” Y/N said, fiddling with her fingers. “His name is Soobin.”
“Whatever,” Kai sighed. “He took you—telling you sweet words about freedom and magic—but it’s all a lie. Neverland is a prison and a trap set by him. He’s a bomb, and a monster that’s willing to kill, but it’s okay. You’re out now, we can help,”
“O-Okay,” Y/N said, furrowing her eyebrows. “but Soobin wouldn’t do that,”
“He does, and he is,” Kai huffed. “Trust me,”
Y/N froze, eyes welling up with tears as she panted.
“But, Soobin—Bin, he—“ Y/N croaked. “Soobin told me that—“
“It’s all a lie, he lied to you!” Kai said, growing increasingly frustrated as he reached out and shook her shoulders. “Are you listening to me?”
“He-he wouldn’t do that to me. He-He promised that I was free—“
“His promises mean shit—He’s lying,” Kai said. “He doesn’t love you,”
Y/N froze, eyes locking with Kai as she clenched her teeth.
Kai stopped as tears started to roll down her cheeks.
“Soobin wouldn’t lie,” She whispered.
“Kai,” Taehyun spoke, reaching out to take Kai away from the girl. “Calm down, let her breathe,”
Kai shot the girl a glance—full of regret or frustration, she can’t tell—and marched out of the room.
Taehyun’s eyes fell to the crying girl as he pursed his lips.
“Y/N,” he sighed. “Kai didn’t lie—Soobin is a monster, a bomb ready to set off at any time,”
Y/N looked up, her eyes firm and fierce as she hissed.
“He’s not a monster to me,”
Taehyun scoffed, turning his back and making his way out of the room.
“Then you’re good as dead,”
Hours later, she found herself running into the arms of a bloody Soobin, with an equally as bloody Junseo unconscious on the floor as they stood in a pool of blood and corpses.
It all happened so fast.
Junseo shot up in bed, groaning as he felt the sharp sting in his abdomen.
Next to his bed sat Y/N, who was looking at Junseo with wide eyes—donning a loose green top that Soobin usually wore around.
“You’re awake?” Y/N gasped, leaning forward to check his side.
There was a deep gash, a stab wound that was open and thoroughly bleeding.
“Junseo, you’re bleeding!” Y/N exclaimed, which was only waved off by the said boy.
“Screw that,” Junseo hissed, grabbing his sister’s wrist roughly. “We have to move,”
“What?” Y/N asked.
“We’re leaving Neverland,” Junseo growled, draggin Y/N out of the tent.
“Junseo, I don’t want to go,” Y/N explained calmly. “And if you want to go, then fine, I’ll talk to Soobin for you—but you can’t right now. You’re bleeding, and you’re too weak,”
Y/N’s words ran true as Junseo stumbled, making Y/N lurch forward and grab his body to regain his balance.
“No, no, don’t tell Pan—”
“His name is Soobin—“
“I don’t give a fuck!” Junseo exclaimed. “We’re going home without that son of a bitch knowing,”
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Junseo struggled on his feet.
“I don’t understand, why are you so angry at him—” Y/N argued angrily, her frustration increasing.
“Y/N, your god damn boyfriend is a murderer!” Junseo exclaimed as he whirled around in anger. “He kills people, Y/N,”
Unbeknownst to him, Soobin and a couple of his Lost Boys appeared to the scene—eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What’s happening?” He asked as he moved forward, freezing when Y/N held her hand up to stop him.
Y/N looked unfazed, her eyes rolling at her own brother.
“Soobin is not a murderer—what the hell are you talking about, Junseo?”
“He is!”
“You’re being delusional, go back to bed!” Y/N demanded.
Junseo turned, eyes angry.
“How big is his dick?”
“Excuse me?” Y/N answered, an offended look in her face as Junseo stormed forward.
Soobin only stayed silent, clenching his jaw.
“How big is that asshole’s dick, and how good did he fuck you to get you all wrapped around his finger, huh?”
“What the fuck?” Came Y/N’s offended response.
“Fucked you so hard you lost your fucking brain?” Junseo hissed, laughing mockingly. “Say goodbye, then. We’re going home. This is final.”
“For the millionth time, I’m not going home!”
“Why? You promised to suck his dick tonight?” Junseo stated angrily.
Y/N clenched her teeth in anger as her hand flied across Junseo’s face, a bright red handprint burning on his face.
“Fuck you,” Y/N hissed.
“Junseo,” Soobin started softly, as he tried to walk forward.
Junseo grabbed his sister by the shoulder, pulling her away from Soobin’s reach as he drew a dagger sheathed in his pants.
“Don’t come any closer,”
Soobin clenched his teeth and stopped in place—holding his hands up.
“Junseo, I—“
“You’re a fucking murderer.”
“You’re not making any fucking sense—“ Y/N started, flinching when Junseo screamed at her.
“He killed people right in front of me!”
“Sure, okay! Fine! Probably!” Y/N said, throwing up her arms. “But he did that to save our lives, Junseo!”
“He killed Lost Boys—“
“Why the hell would he kill Lost Boys when they’re practically his family?” Y/N said. “Try to use your fucking head for at least once in your fucking life!”
Junseo opened his mouth to retort, but Y/N shook her head.
“You know what? Go—leave if you want to, but I’m not going,” Y/N hissed. “I’m staying. Here. With him.”
“Y/N—“
“That’s final.” Y/N hissed, repeating the boy’s earlier words.
Junseo sighed, breathing through his nose before nodding.
“Fine, then. I’m sorry,”
In a flash, his hands reached out—grabbing his sister by the shoulders and pressing his body on her back, an arm trapping her to him and the other pressing a dagger to her neck.
“Pan,” Junseo started. “How do we get home?”
Soobin’s eyes widened in alarm as he locked gazes with Y/N.
“Junseo, she doesn’t want to go home,” Soobin said, his voice shaking slightly. “Please just let her go,”
“Yeah? The only way she’s staying in this island is if she’s a fucking corpse,” Junseo hissed, pressing the dagger deeper—ignoring Y/N’s pained hiss.
“Junseo, stop it—“
“Shut the fuck up, you slut,” Junseo hissed.
“Junseo, I’m not going to ask again. Let her go,” Soobin said, voice turning firmer.
“You don’t get to make fucking demands,” Junseo said to Soobin.
The other boy shook his head, an angry chuckle falling from his lips as he grabbed a bow and arrow being offered to him by a Lost Boy.
He notched a single arrow, taking aim.
“Let. Her. Go.” Soobin’s voice was grim and dark—the permanent smile on his face eradicated as he glared fiercely.
Junseo’s eyes shone with an unidentified emotion, backing away with Y/N is his hands.
“H-How do I get home?”
“I’ll take you home, but you’re not taking her away from me.” Soobin hissed. “Let her go.”
Soobin took a step forward, which made Junseo panic.
“Not one more step—“
As he screamed, he stepped on a home-made animal trap from behind him.
The sound of the net setting off rung loud—making Junseo flinch and raise his dagger to stab his own sister.
Y/N couldn’t react—her eyes only darted over to Soobin, whose eyes practically burned with fire as he let go of the arrow in his hands.
Before Junseo’s hand can come down at Y/N with the dagger, the arrow pierced clean through his skull.
There was a dull thud—signifying Junseo’s body falling into a lifeless heap on the ground.
Shaking, Y/N turned to look at Junseo.
She gasped as he started frothing at the mouth—black tinting through his veins from where the arrow pierced through his body.
“W-What’s happening? Is-Is he dead?” Y/N stuttered.
“I think so,” Soobin said, lips pursed as he lowered his bow.
Y/N turned back to Soobin with wide, quivering eyes—hands shaking as she gasped.
“Soobin,”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I—“
Before he could continue, Y/N sprinted towards him with her arms outstretched and tears falling on her face.
“I-I was so scared,” Y/N sobbed, arms wrapping around Soobin’s waist and face buried in his chest. “I thought I was going to die, I didn’t want to leave,”
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Soobin soothed, gesturing for his Lost Boys to take care of Junseo’s body. “It’s over now,”
Y/N sniffled, looking up and locking her eyes with his.
“I didn’t want to leave Neverland—not when Junseo told me to, and not when Hook’s son told me to,” Y/N said.
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to leave you,” Y/N said, her voice quivering as she reached up to brush Soobin’s hair out of his face. “I love you,”
Soobin didn’t reply, closing his eyes and releasing a deep breath.
“Say that again,”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love—“
Soobin tilted his head down, lips crashing on hers.
Y/N melted on the spot, arms snaking around his neck as she groaned into the kiss.
Soobin leaned his head down to kiss her deeper.
Y/N broke away, panting.
Soobin smiled, brushing his nose with hers.
“No one will ever take you away from me, No one will ever hurt you,” Soobin declared. “No one will ever get to touch you but me, No one will ever get to love and be loved by you but me. I’ll kill them if they try—you’re mine. Only mine.”
Soobin’s lips cracked a small smile as Y/N responded with a giggle.
“Okay,”
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” Y/N hummed, caressing his face. “Only yours.”
“I love you, Y/N.”
Y/N smiled as she rose on her tippy toes—lips brushing against his once more.
“Say that again.”
#txtwritersnetwork#thesoobinnetwork#txt#txt au#txt x reader#txt imagine#txt fic#txt fanfic#txt scenario#txt angst#txt fluff#txt fairytale#txt yandere#txt peter pan#txt soobin#soobin#soobin au#soobin x reader#soobin imagine#soobin fic#soobin fanfic#soobin scenario#soobin angst#soobin fluff#soobin fairytale#soobin yandere#soobin peter pan#soobin txt#tomorrow x together#tomorrow x together imagines
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I am,,,, glad to see there's another person that doesn't like byf. I've never watched his videos myself but I've seen SO MANY people get the wrong information from him
@arcaneglitch i’m going to answer these all here just for the sake of simplicity but really it comes down to one part what first anon is saying and one part more for a personal reason. some misinformation/misinterpretation gets spread, which in part is the result of him presenting personal or fanbase theories as a bit more true than they can be assumed to be. that being said, i cannot deny that he is a great source of destiny lore in an actually consumable format. for new players and people who don’t have time to dig through ishtar to pull together lore bits from books, grimoire cards, item/gear lore tabs, and dialogue from cut-scenes and npc interactions, he is a wonderful resource. personally i suggest, if you have the time and motivation, to use byf as a starting place and start seeking out the lore on your own.
and as for the more personal reason, byf has an attitude about him that irks me. the best example i can think of is that after the live event with the almighty he went on a twitter rant about how long it took, which culminated in him saying that bungie had disrespected the every player’s time. i get being upset at the lack of communication on the time frame (though you could see when the event was scheduled to end on steam) but his tirade about bungie being outright disrespectful seemed way over the top (and kind of entitled). tons of background work went into that event, which might i add required entirely new dev tools to make such a thing work in their engine, and all together it isn’t suprising they chose to ere on the side of caution and take it very, very slow. as i said this is very much a personal reason for generally not being a fan of the guy that i honestly have a hard time putting into words, but a lot of the player base acts the same way too and it just generally rubs me the wrong way
#he was going on about how his friend had to miss the event because of work#like buddy pal#its a live event#people will miss it#streamers tend to act the same way#don't much care for the popular streamers either because of it#some sort of gamer disease i guess#this isn't to say people should not watch his videos i do like some of them!#his dredgen yor lore video is phenomenal#this is just why he personally makes me angy#asks#Anonymous
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I finally finished my rune pages in my Grimoire! Man this took forever. Anyway, here’s a little guide to all the runes (Elder Futhark Edition).
If no reveresed (R: ) meaning is shown then there isn’t one.
Runes are thousands of years old and, according to mythology, are a gift from Odin, who sacrificed himself “to himself” in order to catch a glimpse of them. “Rune” translates to “secret” or “mystery”, as opposed to “letter”or “alphabet”.
FEHU
Represents movable wealth or power. Tangible gain coming towards you, productivity, prosperity, fertility. R: greed or the loss of wealth.
URUZ
Represents the power of life and the energy that organizes and holds life together. A purification which leads to strength, coming-of-age, finding an unknown strength within oneself, using willfulness and tenacity. R: subject is being dominated by others, they are too obsessed with someone or something.
THURIAZ
Represents a corner opposition. Subject as being a pose or betrayed, male sexuality, protection from enemies and change, purging. R: danger, change for the worse, betrayal, envy, instability, accelerated growth.
ANSUZ
Represents an open mouth. Messages, signals, knowledge, inspiration, education, ancestral power, blessings. R: delusion, misunderstandings, boredom, manipulation, lies.
RAIDHO
Represents a cart or chariot pulled by a horse. Journey, ride, advice, following directions, cyclical motion. R: crisis, standstill, change of direction, thwarted travel plans, blocked progress, irrationality, rigidity.
KENAZ
Represents a flaming torch. I could bring illumination or creation, regeneration or transformation, passion, sex, light in the dark, creativity, craftsmanship. R: lack of inspiration, false hope, disease, discomfort, too much exposure.
GEBO
Represents a gift. Balance, alliances, hospitality, contracts, better not to ask than to ask for too much, an eye for an eye, wisdom of an action, bribery, extravagance.
WUNJO
Represents a banner in the wind. Joy and happiness in a group setting, achievements, celebration after hardwork, peacefulness, healing of conflict, harmony. R:  strife, alienation, frenzy, insanity, sorrow, joyless existence, intoxication.
HAGALAZ
Represents hail, a destructive force of nature. Powerful events out of your control, carries a new beginning, clear destruction, sudden loss, trial and tribulations.
NAUTHIZ
Represents two sticks being rubbed together to make fire. Frustrations, resistance leading to strength, self-reliance, delay, unpleasant fate and the ability to counter it. R: distress, hardship, misery, conflict, misguided or inappropriate course of action, release or relaxation of conditions.
ISA
Represents an icicle. Reflection, stillness, standstill, calm, blocked, immovable, no change in the near future, patience, calm before the storm, for now you can do nothing.
JERA
Represents a cracked open seed or the harvest. Reap rewards for earlier efforts, gentle change, fertility, promise of success, cycles.
EIHWAZ
Represents a yew tree or Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Union of opposites, a negative situation with switch, transformation, turning point, detours are blessings in disguise.
PERTHRO
Represents a dice cup. Choice, destiny versus desire, cause-and-effect, divination, laughter, the essence of one’s being. R: The workings of fate will not go favorably, unexpected factors will intervene, forces already set in motion will see selves out, addiction.
ELHAZ
Represents the horns of an elk. Protection, time spent nature may help you gain spiritual knowledge and a greater connection to all that is, holding onto what has been rightfully earned, support. R: vulnerability, sense of isolation, disconnection from the wider world, warning silent or alarm.
SOWILO
Represents the sun, and a lightning bolt which links heaven and earth. Strength, energy, life force, success, honor, achievement, illumination, clarification, appearance of change or the emergence of a guiding principle after a period of stagnation, need to rest or restore energy, good health, healing, power.
TIWAZ
Represents an arrow or the god Tyr. Self sacrifice for the greater good, warrior, battle, courage, boldness, optimism. R: cowardice, injustice, rigidity, prejudice, loss of perspective, martyrdom, conflict, separation.
BERKANO
Represents a birch tree. Female fertility, rebirth, cycle of life, maternal energy, significant life points, important beginnings. R: baroness of a body or spirit, need for nurture, shelter, or conserve energy.
EHWAZ
Represents the horse with his rider. Partnership, common goals, change, movement, progress, travel, determination, trust, harmony. R: loss of relationship, progress halted, no change for now, mistrust, betrayal.
MANNAZ
Represents the self, and the human. Questions identity and function, introspection, mental work, intelligence, memory, reasoning, culture, friends and enemies. R: enemy, failure to accept oneself, poor adjustment to society, depression.
LAGUZ
Represents a lake or leek, flowing water and the feminine. Go with the flow, help is coming, new life, creativity welling up, emotions, mystery, dreams, fantasy, hidden things, intuition, organic growth. R: confusion, blocked help, fear, lack of creativity, risk, despair, suicide.
INGWAZ
Represents a seed, or the Balzac. Male fertility, creative power, deaths as a part of the lifecycle, sex, sensuality, love, work, connection with the land, protection of the home, prosperity, grounding. R: you lack of balance, male impotence, movement with no positive change, hardwork with no reward.
DAGAZ
Represents the day or the light at the end of the tunnel. Slow and measured progress, dramatic change, arrival of the spring or sunrise or sunset, good things are coming, joy, hope, prosperity, satisfaction. 
OTHALA
Represents ancestral property. Solid and stable wealth like land or territory, inheritance, tradition, customs, societal position, DNA, kinship, government, familial resources, permanence, integrity, safety, sense of belonging. R: disownment, rejection of tradition, prejudice, disorder, homelessness, unfair judgment, outcast, manipulation.
Hope this helped!
This was created by combining and toothpicking through the internet and using 5 different sites and a couple different book, so I am not including any direct links.
#rune#runes#baby witch#witchy tips#babywitch tips#rune stones#lightuprock#witch#witchcraft#divination#vikings#witch things
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Every story has an end. After months of Wanda Maximoff controlling the town of Westview via her reality rewriting Hex, the WandaVision broadcast was dropped along with the barrier. As the barriers were set free and the Avengers rushed in, two confrontations occurred. Witches, corrupt government agents and the inescapable finality of loss all collided in one explosive finale that showed nothing would ever be the same.
THIS IS THE OFFICIAL CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC
AGATHA: She’d heard enough, seen enough — no more theories, Agatha had all the answers she needed. And that could really only end in one way in her eyes. Wanda had no idea what she was or what she was really even capable of for that matter. Whether or not that made her dangerous was irrelevant — because more importantly : it made her powerful. And if there was anything Agatha had been drawn to after all these years like a moth to a flame, it was power. Power to get out from beneath her coven — her mother — Oh the things one could do with the ability to shape reality. She’d be much more finely crafted with it too, this little world Wanda had created was impressive, but it wasn’t finely tuned. It had it’s kinks and tears — starting with her star contenders falling apart the second it caved. As the witch appeared in the center of the town square, Agatha clawed the air and curled a strike of purple magic at her back. Fitting. the beloved best friend striking her where she least expected it. “Did you know there’s an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold?.” She asked, revealing the grimoire of dark arts before her. Its ember glowing pages flipped to a page for a creature of myth. “—It’s the book of the damned.” A sneer. “The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged — no need for incantation, or coven. Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme. Your destiny... is to destroy the world. —Don’t believe me?—Here.” Agatha contorted her wrist and like snatching scarlet spiderwebs from her mind, she plucked David free from the crimson witches spell. “James Buchanan Barnes.” Agatha grinned. “Welcome back.”
WANDA: Every game had an end. Maybe Wanda was the queen of denying the inevitable. The part in her brain that was unable to heal was backed by an excess of power she had never understood. It all made more sense now even though Wanda was fairly certain that she knew nothing at all. Darkhold, runes, spells. The Scarlet Witch. How fitting it was to have that as her true identity. Years of hurt and pain had left her feeling powerless but that was never the case. There had always something inside of Wanda that stopped her from falling back into the abyss. It was power, and she had never known how good it could feel. Her body was sore after being thrown around by Agatha. Everyone seemed to have found their way to the town square, every narrative now connecting into the big picture. These people were captives and the woman holding the key was in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She had been forced down memory lane and had her children almost hurt. Vision and the boys remained in her peripheral as Wanda spun to face the Winter Soldier that Agatha had freed. Her chest was heaving from an earlier display of power, her now shriveled hand extended towards the crowd. “--You were happy. You were fine. I’m sorry.”
BUCKY: Mind control was supposed to be easy - a simple switch flipped and lights out to the occupant. Whatever narrative, whatever brainwashing, whatever storyline created would supplant and override, signaling movements and forcing conversations that were unoriginal and baseless. That was the idea behind it, but for someone who had been submerged and pulled from the depths for decades of his life, James could feel the pull against his mind as he emerged and took a breath. It was alarming and painful, as much as it had been the first time he'd look through his own eyes and saw Sam clearly -- saw Yelena stare at him blankly before slipping into a mindless smile --- the thoughts came back to him in waves as he started dumbly before him, settling back into his skin. Going under was supposed to be easy, coming to was supposed to be easy, but it felt more like he was being dismantled and put back together again. James sucked in a breath and felt his body move forward - his first autonomous movement in only Wanda knew how long. "Happy?" His voice cracked from the rush of frustration and anger - the swell of panic from years of torture much in the way of Wanda's methods. "You think I haven't heard that before?"
WANDA: They would never understand. They would never understand and Wanda couldn’t blame them. Her actions had been wrong. They had been selfish and self satisfying. Her grief had become an excuse but no one would accept it anymore. She swallowed thickly, automatically taking a step back away from Barnes. It didn’t matter that she could easily take him down. Wanda was done hurting innocent people. “I just -- I didn’t mean,” Her words were caught up when Dottie approached, now free as well. Sarah Proctor. Eight year old daughter -- please let her out of her room so I can hold her. Dottie then Herb. Phil. Dennis. The citizens were all there with her accusatory stares and Wanda was unable to ward them off. She tucked her hand against her side, the spot where the magic had been extracted shriveled and brown. “Agatha!” That was a shot towards the sky where the witch hovered. “Stop. Please. Just -- stop.”
BILLY: His ties to reality ebbed and flowed, drawing images of a world he didn't recognize, of feelings and emotions that he wasn't connected to - and Billy had always dismissed them. He'd complained to Tommy a few times, even his mom, but they were always dismissed. Dreams, Billy, they're just dreams. But as he stared at Agnes, he was slowly starting to process the mix of memories. He had them both and could reconcile neither and even as the sky cleared, Billy almost wished he could go back under. Stepping back, he searched for Tommy, that instinct to find a brother he had now grown up with and not tugging at him. He didn't know if he wanted to be here, seeing faces he recognized - Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Magneto -- his eyes traced over heroes and mutants that weren't here to help, but they were all awake, and they'd all been dragged into this hell by his alternate reality mother.
YELENA: A glitch in the code. Wanda said they were happy. That meant they were happy, right? Her face twitched as some of the townsfolk cornered Wanda. She wanted to join in even if she couldn’t quite remember why. None of it made sense but there was one thing that Yelena and the the other unconscious residents knew: Wanda needed to stay happy. People were offering her things but she just took a step up towards the man who was supposed to be her husband ( that felt wrong, for some reason ). She didn’t care where the kids were. They didn’t feel like hers anyway at that moment. “I think you should drop it.”
PETER: Peter had been one of the lucky few in Westview that were granted awareness prior to today, and while he couldn’t say he understood just exactly what people like James had been through, the ordeal they had now shared was certainly something he wasn’t eager to get back to. He however, was probably one of the few that harbored more sympathy for Wanda than anger, and the urge to speak up had never been stronger. But Peter knew he’d be outnumbered in his beliefs and doing so would get him nowhere, despite how much his spidey sense was leaving his stomach in utter knots. So he kept quiet, watching from the sidelines as the woman he’d come to know as Agnes hovered above their heads, ready to strike at a moment’s notice should any harm come to Wanda or any of her family.
SAM: Talk about an escalation. One second he was back on his fuckboy shit and the next he was blinking away a massive magic headache again as Wanda’s spell wore off. It wasn’t just him though. Barnes had already engaged in direct contact with her along with a few residents. There were some still asleep judging by the vacant looks on their faces but the whole shebang was rapidly coming to an end. He joined Bucky and Yelena a step closer to Wanda than he preferred, attempting to give her a tight smile. She looked like she was falling apart. A little satisfying, but they had years of light friendship between them. “No one wants any trouble, Wanda. These people just want to go home. Wouldn’t mind it myself, either.”
BUCKY: Sam's voice had felt a lot like Steve's when he'd first heard it in Romania - a tether to the reality he'd been pulled away from. His gaze didn't waver from Wanda's, even if he wanted to turn and confirm that Sam was a real live person next to him, and not more manipulation by Wanda, but the look on her face, the awareness in the people surrounding her was enough confirmation to keep his eyes trained. "Speak for yourself, Wilson." it was clipped, angry. His fingers twitched as the panic continued to rise in his chest, almost overriding his sensibilities. James knew they just needed to get people out, but he couldn't get past how tired he was of people meddling with his brain.
SAM: Shifting from one foot to the other, Sam shook his head. “Nuh uh, nope. I’m not letting either of us getting erased from reality right now.” They had lost Wanda’s attention but she looked like a deer in the headlights. Only issue was that when she panicked she was liable to take everyone with her. “Parker,” Sam turned to Spider-man. “Good to see you’re with us. You ready for ugly?” Not that he was trying to will it into existence. “I’m hoping we got back-up waiting out there.” Knowing Carol, he was surprised she hadn’t smashed through the barrier like it was a spaceship yet.
PETER: Peter was mildly startled when Sam addressed him directly, his head snapping in the direction of the man in question. “—huh- oh yeah. Of course. I mean, not really. But I don’t think I have much of a choice in the matter.” Offering up a smile that slowly began to morph into a grimace, Peter gave Sam a halfhearted salute followed by a not so convincing “Ready when you are, Captain.”
WANDA: They were loud. Their thoughts, their desires. Now, more pressingly: their fear and anger. Norm -- no, Albliash Tandon was talking. When they dreamed - when they were allowed to sleep - they were subjected to her nightmares. This was all a twisted perversion of a fantasy. The people in Westview wanted to die rather than live under Wanda’s thumb any longer and she couldn’t blame them. This was hell on Earth presenting as heaven. Each voice chipped away at her and Wanda crumbled inside. “No, you’re fine.” She reassured them. “You’re fine. I kept you safe in here. You -- You feel... at peace.” A lie. They felt her pain. Wanda was crying and pleading with them like a madman. Her grief was poisoning them. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop Stop. She kept repeating it but they would’t listen. A scream exploded from her chest, hands clutching her face as scarlet tendrils wrapped around their thoughts and everyone in the square dropped. Her children remained off to the side, Agatha in the sky. Wanda didn’t notice any of them as she doubled over. As they writhed and choked, realization set in. “No, stop. Stop.” It took two shakes of her hand before the magic faded. She stared down at them, one whole and one ruined. How had she turned into this? If you won’t let us go, just kill us. No -- no, Wanda would let them go. She’d fix this. And then there was Agatha, goading her. Heroes don’t torture people, The voice of the Witch voice rang out somewhere in her mind above the din. A hero. Wanda was one, past actions excluded. She cared about people. She wanted to change a world that had hurt her. Heroes didn’t hurt people. Wanda was done. Sneakers planted on the ground, Wanda’s spine curved as the force of her magic began to bend her backwards. The column of red energy hit the roof of the Hex and exposed its edges and corners. It felt like ripping a part of herself apart but she still managed a pained, “Get out! Go.”
YELENA: It was incredible to go from being mind controlled into a zombie to being choked out on the street. Her first conscious thoughts were trying to make sure she could breath and then flipping onto her back to blink against the red glow of the Hex. Hex. Barrier. Wanda. With a grunt, Yelena climbed first to her knees and then her feet. Maximoff was there but divided. She was in pain ( not as much as she’d inflected on them though ) and vulnerable. Killing her was tempting, but her belt held no knives or guns. Even though whatever outfit Wanda had forced Yelena into was gone the clothes she had been wearing that night were weaponless. “Блядь,” she spat. “This is where we kill her, isn’t it?”
CAROL: Carol had parked it just a few yards away from the glowing red wall, the force of the magic hot enough to feel like she was standing in front of the sun, but still, she didn't move. She sat with her knees pulled up, forearms resting atop, and she contemplated her options. Behind her, commotion was ongoing as they watched Westview dissolve and they were losing signal because Wanda was losing it and Westview was quickly going dark. It was only a matter of time, and if necessary, Carol would find a way through, even if it pissed Wanda off. She was ready for a head to head. Itching for one. But just as her eyes made the rounds again as she scanned the corners she could make out, the ground beneath her began to shake, responding to a sudden rush of energy. Carol jumped to her feet, the hex splitting open and spilling out light from the other side. She didn't look back, she didn't wait for confirmation. Sending a rush of energy to her feet, Carol shot forward as soon as she saw the trees on the other side, emerging and landing heavily in grass. She didn't even give a glance back - by the accounts she tracked during the observations, she had a pretty good idea where Wanda was -- even if there wasn't a beam of red energy erupting from ground zero.
BUCKY: "Yes." James shoved himself to his feet, the shifting of metal a suddenly phantom feeling as his shoulder accustomed to supporting the weight of his arm again. He didn't even want to think about what else Wanda had changed - what narrative she had forced down their throats. "It sure fucking is."
SAM: Well, shit. The town was glitching. It was rapidly beginning to cycle through the different decades that Wanda had subjected it to. Already in go mode, Sam began waving civilians towards the widening gap. He wasn’t sure how long Wanda could sustain it, but it didn’t look like very long. “No, we’re not going to do that.” He shook his head at Yelena. If she and Bucky wanted to duke it out over who got to deal the final blow, that was awesome for the assassins. Not for Sam though, and he planned on keeping everyone alive. Belova wasn’t pregnant anymore and Barnes had his arm back. His metal arm back, that was. “She hurt more than just us. Right now, our job is making sure she doesn’t hurt anyone else. We get them out of here with her alive. I’m not willing to risk what happens if this barrier comes down on us.”
PIETRO: He’d been standing outside the barrier for what felt like centuries. Each second ticked by like agony as he stared at the sea of red encasing everything he’d ever loved within its clutches. The spread of it was slow at first, crimson stretching apart until it tore — his eyes dropped to the narrow opening just as it shuddered open and he was gone. A deafening boom of sound obliterating the air around him as debris dusted in a wake of blue and silver streaks. He tore through the opening, moving with so much momentum that gravity barely had the chance to acknowledge his presence before he was gone again, across the side of a building in a wide take on the ninety degree angle turn, nothing but a gush of air as he raced down the street. Luna. Crys. Wanda. —Wanda.—Crys. — Luna. wandalunacryslunawandacrys. His mind was racing and then all at once it didn’t matter. She was standing there with their baby in his arms and he slid to a pavement shattering halt with a thunderous snap just thirty feet from them. “Crystalia—“ he appeared in front of her, searching her face—searching Luna’s. “Are you okay??”
HAYWARD: The crack was enough. They were already ready, beyond ready now, as their technology flew out ahead of them, disappearing through the separated barrier to complete its given commands. Hayward packed himself into an armored vehicle and lead the pack of vehicles and tanks as they climbed over the terrain to finally enter Westview. Their concern had little to do with the citizens and more to do with handling the mutant that had created this alternate reality mess. When the truck hit asphalt and entered the town square, he was finally facing down Wanda, depowered and looking exhausted. The town must be empty, he concluded, the citizens fleeing from the twisted story she'd subjected them all to. All that was left was just a minor handful of people, those Wanda seemed closest too considering all the video feeds he'd watched.
AGATHA: Agatha watched the scene before her, floating above the chaos she’d snipped the stitchings to with all the amusement of someone detached and cold. It didn’t really matter to her how Wanda felt. That wasn’t what she was after. “Careful Wanda, your precious babies are tied to this messy little world you’ve created.” Agatha sighed. “Collapse it all now and ..” she tsked “well, look at them. they’re writhing.”
BUCKY: He was seething, struggling to see beyond the slew of memories he had that weren't his -- how happy he had felt, and how that was being soured by betrayal. All he wanted to do was rush forward, even if Wanda snapped him out of existence before he got the chance. But he forced his feet back, forced himself to grab onto Yelena's arm --- something he wouldn't have done under normal circumstances but nothing about this screamed normal -- and started moving away. "This conversation isn't over, Sam." James said with a finality as he turned to usher out the crowd towards the nearest fault in Wanda's wall.
PETER: Peter was suitless, now clad in the same oversized hoodie and baseball cap he’d been wearing the night he was sucked into the hex. Thankfully, however, past Peter had been smart enough to not come unprepared, and present Peter thanked his lucky stars as the familiar feeling of his web shooters materialized around his wrists. Watching James and Yelena nervously, he opted instead to assist Sam in evacuating civilians, using his webbing to pull collapsing debris and obstacles out of the way of the crack in the hex.
DAISY: Daisy had been waiting for the order like everyone else to go into the hex, and as she watched the walls began to collapse she didn’t hesitate to aim her gauntlet covered hands to the ground and sent a shockwave large enough to propel her into the air. It got her far enough to where she was just trailing behind Carol, and she used her powers again to break her fall before breaking off into a sprint towards the town center. As civilians ran past her, she did her best to give them some encouraging words. “You’re all going to be safe soon! Just run towards the edge of the wall as fast as you can!” She didn’t have time to usher people out, though. She needed to find Hayward and stop him from making a strike on Wanda, and everyone else that was still in the surrounding area.
WANDA: It hurt. That was what her mind was focused on. It hurt with every fiber of her being to exert that much energy at once. As the town began to revert and glitch Wanda felt silent tears streak down her face. She deserved this on some level. Her creation and ruination combined. Wanda channeled everything she had into the rectification of her mistake until she felt it. An untethering. There was screaming but then there was the sound of her husband, her sons. They were dying -- again, in Visions case -- and Wanda wasn’t ready to let them go. There was a scream that left her throat and then the barrier was closing once more. They were tethered, tied. That was mostly true. There was no Vision outside of Westview. The world had saw to that when they took him away from her. But her boys, they persisted. The dissolving aura that surrounded Vision faded away while remaining on the twins. Just like it had happened before they were conceived, a division occurred. Two boys were left coughing on the pavement while their original selves - the older ones - were once again separate. The red faded away and Wanda was left breathless and weak. Even though she felt like she was going to fall over if she took a step she somehow managed to drag herself to her younger boys and her husband. “Are you okay? Look at me -- are you okay?” She grabbed the twin’s by the face, her attention on them and not Hayward’s militia.
SAM: At least everyone was working together. His head tipped in Bucky’s direction as he grabbed the Widow by the arm. Better to let them work it out among themselves. “Didn’t think it was, Bucky.” He turned his attention then towards the current effort. “Hey, spiderthing, you got any reservations about throwing old people?”
TOMMY: He couldn’t quite separate it any more — the younger version of him he’d been combined with and the person he was before, so much so that it was hard to tell which one was falling apart anymore until he finally thought it was just him. All of him being stretched and pulled and ripped away until finally it was like a rubber band snapping and he gasped, staring at a version of himself that didn’t even look like him when he was a kid. “What the fuck?” Tommy said, sitting flat on his ass in the middle of the street. His hands flapped around his torso, checking for—for holes or janky missing parts— maybe parts that weren’t his but nothing, none of that just...him. all him. “...Billy....???” He called out warily.
MONICA: Monica didn’t want to talk about where she had been or her unfortunate experience with Ralph Bohner. That was for another day. Ultimately, she had wasted time getting to the town square. The barrier was closing again but the space had been inundated with familiar faces. “Hey, S.H.I.E.L.D.” She tilted her head towards Daisy as their paths intersected. “Wanda -- is she alive still?”
YELENA: To say she was angry was an extreme understatement. Yelena had been indoctrinated for as long as she could remember. Her entire being had been reduced into being a replacement for a woman who had decided to move on. Yelena was not Natalia. She had learned that over time, even though they had denied her own name. She was her own, and yet, Wanda had erased that. An American. One who made pies and gave a shit about what people thought about her. Yelena was not the pretty one. She never had been. That was Natalia, lithe and delicate. Yelena hid in curved edges. She wasn’t a beauty queen and suburbia was never in her cards. Having someone who loved her was almost as ridiculous. Two assassins as parents? No. She refused to let her hand touch her stomach like it had when she was pregnant. Yelena knew what was there: a scar. no signs of life. She made it approximately five steps before pulling her arm from James’ grasp. “Ты не мой муж, James ( you’re not my husband).
Отпустить (let go). I’m not leaving.”
PETER: Peter continued in his efforts of getting civilians to safety as quickly as possibly, but Sam’s voice once again snapped him out of it, “—do I what? You can’t be serious, dude!” Yelena was clearly growing angry pretty quickly and Peter was growing overwhelmed. The sounds of Wanda’s distress mixed with that of utter chaos were almost becoming too much to handle, but Peter stuck to it, launching himself toward the Captain with his webbing and landing beside the man with a soft thud. “You want me to — “ he held up a web shooter and vaguely gestured in Yelena and James’ direction with a shrug.
SAM: “Desperate times, desperate measures, man.” The octogenarians weren’t really moving fast enough and Wanda had finally lost steam. They were going to be trapped but the heroes could at least take care of themselves. As Peter moved to stand by his side, Sam’s shoulders rose and fell. “I don’t speak Russian and I know she can kill me. He could too, but we’re friends. Mostly. Think we let them work it out?”
VISION: It wasn’t the first time he’d felt himself being torn apart at the seams—at the barrier, he’d felt it then. The popping of parts as they flew loose, chunks of reality melting away into stardust and matter. He strained to reach them—his wife, his children. “Wanda!—Boys!” he gritted through his teeth, pushing through an invisible force that allowed no headway. Then all at once, he collapsed, all his pieces flew back into place and he caught his breath. His sons had once again separated into their older and younger selves. “I’m alright.” he assured her, looking to his children for any missing chunks.
WANDA: They were okay. They were fine. Maybe they wouldn’t be in the long haul, but in that moment her family was whole once more. No missing pieces, no slipping away and dissolving into the air. Wanda exhaled a sigh of relief, kissing the top of Billy and Tommy’s heads. The barrier was back in place and they had once again stolen a few extra minutes. “Go home, boys.” Wanda released them. “Get to safety.” Not that anywhere was safe. Their house had been a haven. At the very least it put a few walls between themselves and Hayward’s agents. Wanda had warned them off. She had told S.H.I.E.L.D. to leave her alone but they clearly no longer feared her. No fear, no respect. Wanda was just another obstacle. She squeezed Vision’s hand, relief bubbling in her chest. Wanda had barely made it to her feet when something slammed into her and a vice grip was around her neck. White hands led up white arms and a ivory form. It was the Vision but it was not. There was something cold and calculating about his blue eyes. Even though she had just seen her husband, there was something unsettling about his quiet form. He was achingly familiar. “Vision?” She rasped. He just stared at her before his grip tightened. “And here I thought you were supposed to be powerful.”
PETER: Peter spoke to Sam in a manner akin to a student whispering to his friend in the back of class, careful to not let the teacher catch them, “— yeah, but if we leave them be - won’t they go after Wanda? I don’t know if I can take them both — “
TOMMY: Grabbing his correct twin, Tommy took a fistful of the back of his shirt and raced them both out of Westview before the barrier could close back up.
CRYSTALIA: There was a chance that Crystal was the only one who had willingly entered Westview. She hadn’t really know what she was signing up for but knew she had no choice. The second that Luna had vanished there hadn’t been a single thing in the world that mattered more to her than setting things right. There was a crippling fear that it was Crystal’s fault it had happened in the first place. Realistically she knew Wanda’s powers, but as a young first time mother it all seemed so pivotal on her inability to hold on when it mattered. And so, she entered hell. Crystalia wasn’t a Princess anymore. She had a ridiculous backstory and always felt exhausted even when she smiled. And she was always smiling. Her child screamed and she was helpless to do anything until Wanda fixed it. It felt impossible to say how long it had been, but the second the red cloud began to leave her mind Crystal began to panic. Luna was awake but wasn’t crying. The infant almost seemed solemn. Had Wanda hurt her? Crystal would kill her if so, but the baby betrayed nothing. Everyone in the town square was loud. They were panicking but Crystalia was trying to center herself. She was naturally attuned to the world -- being in elemental meant being grounded. She could feel the vibrations of the earth and the moisture in the air and that was reassuring. That being said, it’s hard to be grounded when your not sister in law decides to choke an entire town out. Crystal had pressed Luna against her, resting the unaffected baby on her chest as she hit her knees. Pietro loved Wanda. Crystal had spent her abbreviated pregnancy watching him all apart. He loved her, but Crystalia hated her. She hated what she had done to her and her daughter. At the thundering sound, the Princess instinctively tucked Luna against herself. Head spinning, she took a step towards her baby daddy Pietro. “It’s you.” As in, not the fake version she had been forced to marry.
SAM: There was a noncommittal grunt. “Bucky, no. He wants to but he knows what we’re focusing on. Yelena, I’m not sure. It would be easier if Nat was here.” Not that the sisters relationship was outwardly anything other than contentious. “I’d say lovers quarrel but that wasn’t real.” Technically their sleeping together was but Sam wasn’t sure if that was public knowledge. “Speaking of lovers, you see a Carol shaped comet yet?”
PIETRO: When they’d vanished he felt the last parts of himself that he’d been clinging to, crumble. Wanda had been rejecting him in more ways than one and ripping his new born and Crys from him just days after Luna had been born had broken something for him that just hadn’t operated right since. His mind loosely drifted to his twin but he was more focused on this—Wanda could handle herself. Right now he needed to hold his daughter and her mother. Pietro pulled both of them against him, tucking Luna between their bodies as he wrapped them in his arms. He felt a breath fully expand his lungs for the first time in weeks. “It’s you.” he said. “Both of you.” He kissed the top of her bright red hair. “Please tell me you’re okay.”
DAISY: Daisy smiled a bit when she saw Monica, glad to see the familiar face. “S.W.O.R.D.” She breathed out in a sigh of relief before she stopped in her tracks and nodded as she pointed over towards the big red beam in the sky, but then it faded again and her head tilted to the side. The borders were closing, but thankfully she seemed to still be in her right of mind. For now, at least. “Where the hell is Hayward?”
CRYSTALIA: Folding into him, Crystal allowed herself to take a shaky breath. She wasn’t sad, only angry. Her child had been endangered for no reason at all. “It’s me. As of a few minutes ago, at least.” There was the sharp curl of humiliation in her stomach at the thought of who Wanda had forced her to be. Her family had to be worried. She was an adult but she’d always be the baby of the family -- forever the princess, never the queen. It was a miracle that the Inhumans hadn’t taken any kind of action against Wanda. Or, she assumed they hadn’t. Although it was nearly physically painful, Crystalia angled her body to offer Pietro his daughter. “She hurt us.” It was hard to explain the feeling. “Every second. Just grief. But you, you were there.” Wanda mourned her brother. Maybe she knew Crystal’s connection to him and let her share in that sorrow. Falling silent as her processing spun slowly, the Inhumans brows furled. “She had me get married to some knock off version of you who smelled. I had to live with him.” Not that he cared or was attentive. It was just part of the game.
BUCKY: James stopped, giving the collapsing Hex a glance before he shifted his gaze to her. "И что вы будете делать, Yelena." and what will you do? He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to deal with it. With regret already settling into his skin, James bent and scooped Yelena up by her hips, hinging her over his shoulder, his metal arm tight around her waist. He knew he was taking her choice from her just minutes after she'd gotten it back, but she could take that out on him outside of Wanda's hell fantasy. He followed Sam and the rest.
PETER: Peter was shocked to notice James scoop Yelena off her feet and carry the assassin to the break in the Hex, but he didn’t question it, gaze instead flicking to the sky to check for any sign of the Carol shaped comet. “I don’t know? Thought I saw her earlier, Quake was nearby too — she shouldn’t be too hard to spot!” he spoke a bit louder, almost a yell, over the rumbling chaos.
YELENA: Body thrashing slightly, Yelena knew five ways to break his hold that would also bring him to his knees. She knew how to fight back but she was exhausted. Her body didn’t know how to handle going from being pregnant to remembering that it was impossible to exist in that state. “я собираюсь убить тебя ( i’m going to kill you ),” she hissed, knowing that his ear was right by her mouth. Going slack then, the spy allowed him to carry her away from the place she wanted to be and the person she wanted to kill.
VISION: He was flying over Westview, scanning for his wife among the scattered bodies running around below. When he finally passed over their home, he found a startling view: a being, stark white in nature — and worse, he seemed to have Wanda by the head. A visual that sent his vital organs or lack thereof plummeting to the earth below. Vision rocketed forward, slamming into the other synthezoid with a force that sent them tumbling into the ground like an asteroid. They left a crater in their wake as he carried him far away from his family. Vision threw the synthezoid up, chasing him higher into the sky—farther away from Wanda.
MONICA: “Hayward’s where Wanda is.” Monica replied, knowing it to be true. “He wants Vision and she’d do anything to protect him. That’s where I’m going.” Without waiting, Monica turned to move towards the glowing epicenter with the notion Daisy would follow. As the red column began to die down she hurried her pace into a run until she skidded to a stop. Hayward was looking smug and his shoulders were at the ready. It was then that they fired at the retreating forms of Wanda’s twins and without any hesitation Monica threw herself in front of them. She had been the one to help deliver them. Even if it was all fake, she had handed the newborns to Wanda and watched that love grow. One bullet entered and then the other. There was no pain or skin breaking. For a moment it was just light. It was like breaking through the barrier. Monica felt them enter and exit in a surge of energy. She blinked through a new golden glow, mind trying to comprehend the sight of Vision wrestling what looked like a ghostly version of himself away from Wanda. “It’s over, Hayward.” It was easy to say when you had just tapped into the light spectrum. “It’s done.”
SAM: Holding both hands up, Sam shook his head. They were going to sort it out. The Winter Soldier and White Widow were well equipped for one another. Maybe Belova would try to kill Barnes. He couldn’t see it going the other way. Not that Sam was actively betting on Barnes’ love life. “If you want to go, kid, I don’t blame you. I’m going to stay here though. See if anyone needs help.” Leave no man behind. Sam was trying to be the best Captain he could.
PIETRO: An actual twinge of pain ebbed through him at her words. She hurt us. They echoed through his skull like gun shots. He felt his tongue go dry and his legs go numb as he pulled her to him a little tighter. They weren’t words he’d wanted to hear, but he needed to. The part of him that twitched to run to Wanda in any capacity was subdued by a haunting feeling of guilt. He had missed her but the joy of seeing her again was squandered by pain she’d caused. To his daughter. Crystalia. Him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—I should have protected you.” You never should have been there. I should have stopped her. She should have never done this. The words died on his tongue before they had a chance to form. It didn’t matter. The damage was done. And no amount of words would remedy the scars that had been left. “What can I do?” He asked into her hair, smoothing a hand down her back. At her comment about the awful imposter that had been branded with his name, a subdued scoff of a laugh left his throat. “He smelled, huh? Well at least you don’t like him better.” He mused, an ill attempt at a joke. Of course she wouldn’t have. He’d been awful.
DAISY: Daisy quickly followed suit behind Monica, with absolutely no hesitation. They needed to make their way over there, and fast. There was no telling what Hayward had planned. And sure enough, Daisy ran up just in time to see an ivory tinted version of Vision and the real- er, hex vision flying up into the sky with him. “Shit..” She muttered under her breath as she sped up her pace. And when she ran up to Hayward and saw him opening fire on a couple of kids, her heart sank as she realized that she was too late. She quickly held her hand up and tried to pinpoint vibrations on all of the guns to shake them apart, but the bullets had already exited the chamber. In fact, he fired several rounds before she was able to destroy the guns. But then Monica was throwing herself in front of the kids and Daisy’s eyes widened as she watched the bullets go straight through the other agent. That must have been a new development. And she very quickly quaked most of the bullets in a different direction before they could actually hit Billy and Tommy. And then, she turned to Hayward and narrowed her eyes before tilting her finger and using her powers to snap all of the bones in his hand and his wrist. “Stand down, now. Or I’ll break a lot more than just that.”
PETER: Peter debated his next move for a few seconds, and while Sam was partly right - he did want to leave, to go home, to call MJ and Ned, and make sure everyone was okay - he also knew what he had to do. He was Spider-Man. Maybe he didn’t quite look like it at the moment, sans suit, but there was no denying it - and there was no walking away from that. “No — I’ll stay, I’ll stay. Just - tell me what you need me to do.”
CAROL: She felt sheer force slam into her shoulder as Carol full bodied the nearest armored truck, smashing it into the nearest one and then cascading that energy through the tank nearest to the rest. It was a calculated move -- they were aiming guns at children and the tank was setting up to fire. Now, she had put enough force and energy through the vehicles that they were little more than metal boxes now as she peeled herself out of the metal and took a moment to crack her back. "You really underestimate us, Hayward." She said casually just before she registered Monica. She didn't have nearly enough time to address that situation before she spotted Sam. She didn't say anything to him, she didn't know what she'd say, so she looked to Monica and Daisy. "Nice teamwork guys. Now. Where's our mutant?"
SAM: Peter was a good kid. They had a strange introduction but Sam could say that about everyone he knew at this point. He was offering his mouth to respond when the Carol comet he had inquired about smashed into Hayward. Coughing from the dust that rose from the rubble, Sam jutted his chin towards where Wanda was sucking in breath. “Looks like we have a Vision problem.”
LORNA: As it stood, Lorna was positive she was going to go back towards being an only child. Erik didn’t even like Pietro and they had basically just met him. The mutant had come to alongside her father. Her green hair was a dull brown that was only just returning to its normal hue. It felt ridiculous to be standing in a full cape and headpiece in the middle of the town square, but Lorna had other things to focus on. Carol Danvers ( ugh ) was smashing into Hayward and someone Lorna didn’t recognize was apparently casually breaking his bones. Striding up, green flared around the guns of the soldiers before they snapped in half. The bullets unloaded to clatter pointlessly to the ground. “God, I love guns. More than I love this family at least.”
MONICA: Teamwork made the dream work. Monica had been trained as an agent to learn how to balance working with a group. It made life easier. She became a human target, Carol was Carol and the new Agent was inflicting pain on Hayward that Monica would personally have loved to be responsible for. “She willingly took the barrier down.” Monica said as she strode in Carol’s direction. “But it was killing her family. That was before another Vision showed up. And, also, there’s a witch.”
PETER: Peter watched on in a slight crazed panic, at the scene Sam alerted him to, and a broken smile forced its way onto his face, “Hey then we better get some glasses — you know..? Because - vision problem,” he quipped, regretting even opening his mouth before shaking his head and launching a web toward the wrestling duo, the tendril managing to cling to the bottom of one of the ghostly vision’s feet. Peter gave a sharp tug, but it didn’t appear to do much besides briefly interrupt the fight, “Uhh - what do I do??”
CAROL: "Another Vision?" Carol shot a look at Hayward, but he was too preoccupied dealing with his bones and the loss of his firepower to pay Carol any mind. "Witch?" That also caught her attention. "Another mutant then or?" she didn't know why the questions mattered. They didn't. They'd just been so out of the loop for so long she was itching for answers. "So let's go get her then."
VISION: The sky lit up in an array of blue and gold as the two synthezoid’s went at one another, each determined to destroy the next. In all the thrashing, he kept them steered clear from anyone below. “What are you?”
CRYSTALIA: It was over. Or, at the very least, it almost was. Wanda was out of her mind and the absence of the spell left the clarity of uninterrupted thought. Pietro pulled her even closer and there was a comfort to be found in a firm embrace. He was strong -- maybe not strong enough to stop his sister -- but solid nonetheless. All Crystalia wanted to do was rest. If she broke down it would not be there. Her pride was too persistent. “It’s not your fault,” Crystal shook her head, one hand briefly resting above his heart. “Any anger I have is towards Wanda. There was nothing you could have done.” Once Wanda wanted something no one had been able to stand in her way. There was a hurricane of emotion that could be sorted through later. Right the she just wanted to make sure her daughter was safe. “You can take us home.” Wherever that was. New Attilan or the Avengers Compound. Home was anywhere but Westview. Even then she doubted that she’d sleep well but at least it would be on her own terms. At the mention of “Pietro”, Crystal shook her head. Her hair was down and loose in strawberry curls, fly aways blowing into her face. “He didn’t come around much and he didn’t care about Luna. I can’t even remember marrying him.”
THE VISION: What was he? A good question. He was functional, capable. He was built with a purpose to last. He was, most importantly, real. That was more than the synthezoid he grappled with could say. Their twin bodies phased through one another, mental beams hitting empty air. “I am the Vision.” The reply was simple, syllables plain and straightforward. This was not something he struggled to understand. His being was laid out in code and his object is clear. Body twisting in the air to get a grasp, the synthezoid managed to get hit a hit in that sent his counterpart hurtling through the air and crashing into what appeared to be a library. His descent was slower, cape gently fluttering around his legs as he hovered above the wooden floor. “And I am here to neutralize the Vision.”
DAISY: Once Hayward seemed to have given up, Daisy stomped towards him and grabbed him by the arm, glaring down at him. As she glanced behind her and spotted a couple other S.W.O.R.D. agents who made it through the barrier with them, she practically shoved him towards them and shook her head. "Take Director Dick here back towards the base once the barrier opens back up. We'll deal with the paperwork there." She insisted, and the other two didn't even question it as they got him in handcuffs and loaded him into one of the nearby vehicles. She approached Monica and Carol at the tail end of the conversation. "I'm sorry did you say another witch?" As she glanced up towards the sky, she finally saw the woman who was surrounded by a purple aura and her eyes widened. "Oh, yeah. That's another witch. Let's find Wanda."
VISION: Vision rose to his feet, facing his ghostly counter part once again, head on. He charged at him, tangling them in a web of vibranium limbs, he twisted White Vision into a headlock, stilling them for a breath of a moment. then it occurred to him: “But I’m not the true Vision. Only a conditional one.”
WANDA: It was time for it all to finally end. Wanda had kept up the ruse for as long as possible but the walls had done more than cave in. There were Avengers - friends - and there had been innocents. Wanda had walked through her reasoning and watched it go down in her minds eye. She had been many things, but fear was the root cause of everything. It all traced back to her fear -- and she was terrified no more. There was just calm resolve as she left Carol and the others with Hayward. Rising into the air so that Westview became a map below her, Wanda gave it her all. She tried to enter Agatha’s mind as the Witch had once done to her. It was a failure of an idea, the coven of witches that Agatha had drained instead turning on Wanda. In some ways she was out of her element, but there was also a part of her that had been waiting for this moment. Agatha wanted to know how she did it? Fine. She wanted her power? She’d let her try to take it. Wanda couldn’t escape her fate. She threw blast after blast and felt her body start to shrivel up. If Agatha wanted it all, she could have it. Red poured from Wanda into Agatha, purple and red mingling. She gave her everything she had until she was left floating with red eyes and withered skin.
AGATHA: Agatha had asked for it — but the funny thing about wishes — you had to be careful with them. After all the universe did like to screw you. Honestly she was a little surprised to see the red witch cave so easily — not that it stopped her from draining her of everything she could. Her magic tasted hellish on her tongue and it filled her with a sense of power she’d only ever sensed in beings of the cosmic scale. Her arms stretched wide as the tendrils of chaos flowed through her—and then...suddenly...it stopped. No. No—that wasn’t right, they weren’t done. Agatha tried to draw more, only nothing happened, not even a sputter of sparks from her finger tips. “What?”
MONICA: “Y’know, I really wanted to be the one who did that.” Monica shook her head. Hayward had taken something her mother had created as a labour of love and exploited it for power. There was a sharp sting of disappointment that she couldn’t be the one who finally got to haul him away in sweet retribution. But this was reality. You didn’t always get to be the hero you wanted to. Hayward had been taken care of and Monica had to be happy with that victory. “Agatha Harkness. Turns out Agnes wasn’t just a nosy neighbor.” They had only interacted marginally. Geraldine had no reason to pay her much attention. “I know where Wanda is.” A finger pointed upwards. “And I’m not getting involved.”
PETER: Peter jogged up to Monica and the others, having just witnessed the immense transfer of power between the two witches, “Does anyone have any idea what’s happening?? I don’t think my web shooters will do any good against that,” he pointed to the sky, worriedly.
REMY: Plenty of them had stood at the border, waiting for something more than silence and occasional updates on the happenings of inside. But then the Hex had fractured and teams had been ordered in for extraction - save the people, evacuate the town - and Remy had done his best to follow that order, but he didn't know how to be a hero. Not really. Not in the selfless capacity. He slipped down back alleyways to avoid the crowds of people and just followed where they were fleeing from until he emerged in the center of the town. There were trucks, SWORD had made it in, and a few stray heroes were incapacitating them. But his attention was drawn elsewhere, because goddamit he was tired of the loss and gain of their relationship. "You gonna keep making me chase you down?" he said, just loud enough to grab Lorna's attention. "I'm starting to wonder if it's on purpose" there was no immediate threat, nothing he could attack, even if they, and he, were still on high alert. And this was the only way he could manage because presently, he wasn't managing well at all.
CAROL: Carol followed Monica's gaze and she almost shot a load of energy into her boots but forced herself to stay planted. As much as she wanted to engage, it would be out of her own selfishness, not because she was needed. "Fine." she looked straight at Monica. "You wanna explain to me what the hell is going on with you then?"
DAISY: "He's all yours once we get back to the base." Daisy insisted, knowing that Monica would love to be the one who did his official intake. She may have let her anger get the best of her back there once she saw him firing at those kids, but then she was reminded of those bullets floating straight through Monica like she wasn't even solid matter. And then Carol mentioned it and Daisy couldn't help herself from commenting too. "That was really brave of you back there. Stupid, but brave. Did you even know you would be able to do that? That's new, right?" She didn't remember powers being mentioned at all when it came to Monica.
PIETRO: It didn’t matter whether or not it was his fault, he didn’t do his job. Against the one person he should have been best at it. Her words stung, but he understood where they were coming from. She had a right to be angry — he was still angry. Loving Wanda more than he could handle didn’t exclude him from holding her accountable. You can take us home. He nodded, relief flooding him to know they’d be sleeping under the same roof tonight. They were alive and well and his. He smoothed the stray pieces of her red hair from her face and kissed her. “Then don’t. Marry me instead.” He proposed. It seemed to come from no where, but he’d been thinking about it before. He’d only stopped himself because he hadn’t wanted it to happen just because of Luna. Now though — he just didn’t care what it looked like. He was tired of tripping up on calling her his girlfriend because it was so much more than that between them. “Yeah.” he said, tilting his head and tucking her hair behind he ear. “Marry me.”
WANDA: Surprise. It turned out that Wanda was an incredibly quick study. She was barely able to stay afloat and it felt like Agatha had taken everything from her, but Wanda persevered. That was what she did. Time and time again she found a way to survive. As Agatha’s realization began to dawn Wanda found herself revitalized. Runes. They began to glow as the giant shapes lit up the sky. “In a given space, only the witch who cast them can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson, but I don’t need you to tell me who I am.” It was like the floodgates were opening. This was chaos unleashed. Agatha was pleading but the world was a red blur. It encased Wanda in its blinding light. She felt it solidifying around her temple, infusing her with pure potential. Destiny, fate, burdens. All words that had been thrown at her. At that moment, Wanda didn’t care. She was everything and she was nothing. She was, without a doubt, the Scarlet Witch and as a nexus of powers potential personified. Maybe Agatha was right. She didn’t fully know what she had done. Encased in magic, the new scarlet of Wanda’s outfit reflected the failing borders of the world she had built. For so long she had lacked a name, and in some ways, a higher purpose. That was no more. Red swirled around her palm as Wanda lowered herself and the defeated Agatha back towards the ground. She dropped the Witch unceremoniously before gently drifting down herself. Something was different. Everything was different. Red died from green eyes as Wanda turned towards the small crowd of people she knew, silent as her power threaded itself through her veins.
CAROL: Carol shifted her attention abruptly, calculating the woman who stood before her. She always knew Wanda was powerful - she'd dealt with enough powerful mutants to build a roster and by now, her instinct was to defend. "Wanda-" she started, but she made no move to approach. "You've got a lot of things to own up to." If Wanda attacked, Carol would defend -- but the last thing Carol would do was retreat, no matter if Wanda got a fancy new outfit in the last ten minutes up in the sky.
PETER: Peter couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Sure he’d fought in battles by Wanda’s side before, and even fought - well tried to fight - Wanda herself. But this was different. This was a whole other level — and Peter felt almost frozen in place as he watched everything commence, only broken from his trance-like state at the sound of Carol’s voice addressing the now grounded Wanda.
THE VISION: The two fought. They were beings forged with great power but remained intellects at heart. He required further elaboration. The two talked then, quick debate spurred on by processing cores and a desire to learn. This was the Ship of Theseus, the dilemma of a conundrum. They were both Vision and they were not. One was memory and heart and the other the tangible devoid of that which had once made him. He could not destroy the Vision because he was the Vision. Alternatively, neither of them were the Vision. They had been twisted by greed -- both that of Wanda’s love and Hayward’s thirst for power. Together, perhaps, they could be one but that was not to be. Life had made them diametrically opposed through intentions he did not understand. It was with a quiet hesitation that the Vision let Vision touch the processing chip that had once housed the Mind Stone. And then -- clarity. Wanda. Sokovia. Wanda. Ultron. An accident that rendered a man paralyzed. This was the Vision as he once was. He was machine made more. Recoiling backwards, the blue of his eyes began to clear. “I am Vision.” Where that left the other he knew not, but the revitalized Vision shot out o the building without another word and escaped the barrier to find a place to enter deep contemplation.
VISION: Vision watched him go, left to float by himself among the now quiet air of the library. After but a moment or two, he soared out of the hole in the roof of the building to find Wanda and the boys. He didn’t know where any of it left the other synthezoid in his programming to destroy himself, but he was hoping it would override it. Upon landing, Vision phased through Carol to get to Wanda. “Captain Danvers.” he said on the pass through. “With all due respect, while I understand your qualms with my wife, they can wait another ten minutes — we’ve our children to get to.”
DAISY: Daisy watched in awe as Wanda fought it out with Agatha, still kind of in shock that this was the level of threats she was dealing with nowadays. That really was an Avenger up there, and she was standing next to freaking Captain Marvel. She was practically in the same amount of shock as Peter was as she stared dumbfounded with him, only to snap out of it at the sound of Wanda’s feet hitting the grass. She glanced down at Peter and raised her eyebrows at him in an attempt at a silent conversation, knowing he’d probably get her amazement.
MONICA: For what felt like the hundredth time in her life, Monica stood with her head tilted up towards the sky. This time there was no stars or Aunt who had turned to legend. It was a broken woman and a force set out against her. “I think what’s happening with me can wait.” Monica’s voice was quiet. She understood aliens but magic was new to her. She wanted to hate Wanda -- and a part of her did. Didn’t change how beautiful she looked dripping in scarlet and power. Turning towards Daisy, Monica nodded a few times before she remembered to speak. “Westview side effect. Looks like a lot is changing now.”
SAM: Carol was right. Wanda did have a lot to own up to, but they also had a lot to process and a lot of people to deal with. There was an arm extended in front of Carol. It wouldn’t stop her. It was purely a gesture. “It’s time for goodbye.” He said quietly, knowing what Vision meant. Besides, he was tired. They all were.
DAISY: Daisy blinked when she realized she was being spoken to. She turned her head to Monica and nodded. “Oh yeah, you went in before..” She could only imagine how having your entire reality rewritten and unwritten like that twice could effect your molecular anatomy. Daisy just knew that FitzSimmons would have a field day with trying to figure that out. “Still, that was super cool you know.”
TEDDY: Teddy Altman had been through a lot in the last couple of months, let alone the year. He’d lost his boyfriend twice—once to death, a second time to his scary mom. He’d been crowned the emperor of two empires that hated each other and was somehow expected to hold them together. His time on earth was limited most days, and while it made the frustration of not being able to get his boyfriend out of the hex — he was pretty floored to find out it was not only open, but the woman he’d been told about was involved. “Monica Rambeau?” Teddy said, approaching her. “My name’s Teddy. Can we talk?”
CAROL: Carol's eyes snapped to Sam, an incredulous furrow in her brow. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." she said on a breath but ultimately, she took a step back, actually turning around fully and away from Sam. "Good to know. I'll keep this in mind for the next villain we face."
CRYSTAL: Marry me instead. Crystalia’s mind was torn between the subtle swaying of rocking the baby and the processing of what had happened. Wanda would always be in her life, even if she wasn’t with Pietro. They were bound forever by blood and bone now. She was lost in touch - actual touch not being controlled by another - and the feeling of his lips against her own. “Marry you?” Of course she had thought about it. They had a child together and it was all but expected by an aristocratic family that worked on tradition. Crystalia had a child out of wedlock. Not only that but it was with a mutant who had a terrorist sister nonetheless. “Marry you.” The word was a sigh. She loved Pietro. She loved the family they had made. He wasn’t on one knee and they stood in the middle of a possessed town, but there was an odd romance to it. “Of course I’ll marry you.” Crystalia leaned up to kiss him. It was nice to have a choice this time. “I love you. All this craziness aside. I do.”
PIETRO: He wanted Crystalia and the baby out before he could think much of anything else. They had to be safe before he could get to Wanda and once he knew that Crys had Luna cradled to her chest, he’d picked her up and ran both of them back to Attilan in the Hudson. The entire ordeal had really only taken just minutes — mostly because he’d had to separate himself from them once again and convince his now fiancée to let him go speak to the same woman that had caused all of their pain. Even if that person was his sister—his twin, the same flesh and blood of his own—it still left its scars.
WANDA: They stared. Wanda sensed their indecision and, in some cases, their anger. Let them. It didn’t matter anymore. She knew what she had and what she had to lose. “A villain.” She repeated softly. There had been times in the past Carol had defended her. She hadn’t wanted Wanda left at the mercy of the mutants. But that was a different time before unforgivable transgressions. “Maybe, but it’s not that simple.” She had been villainous but that was over. This was the after. Taking Visions hand, Wanda nodded at Carol. “My husband is right. We have to focus on the boys. I’ll come back. I promise.” The last word was spoken quietly. She’d come back. Not Vision, not the boys. Just her. The twins had returned to town square, two children with expectant faces. Wanda would not let her last moments with her children be defending herself against Carol Danvers. Without waiting for permission, Wanda turned towards her home. “The barrier is falling. Westview is returning,” she called over her shoulder. “It will be right once more.”
MONICA: “Went in and got thrown out.” Monica confirmed. Carol was getting upset and she instantly tensed up to see if there would be conflict. When Sam intervened Monica exhaled. She was turning to respond to Daisy when she was approached from the other side. “Emperor Dorreck?” Of course she knew the Skrull leader. Space had always been a part of the Rambeau’s life. She excused herself to the side. “Yeah, of course. I’ll meet you as soon as we’re out of here.”
WANDA: It was the beginning of the end. No, not the beginning. The end had come five years before even though it felt like yesterday to a woman who hadn’t been around to live through it. The end had come the moment the Vision had died in Wakanda. His empty shell hitting the dirt heralded a new phase in her life and Wanda had tried her best to live in it. She socialized and tried to smile. Her tears were regulated to moments of privacy. Wanda had tried - she really had - but she couldn’t do it. She rewrote the story, added a chapter. There was no end then, only beginnings. Westview was real. Westview was hers. Westview had crumbled. People were flickering back to consciousness and red still sparked in the sky. It was her home that had never really been. A promise that had never been lived out. When the Vision had signed the deed and secured the land had he ever fathomed just how much Wanda would pervert it to keep it? The white android with his hands on her throat hadn’t remembered but Wanda always would. After months of games and manipulation she was quiet as she rested a hand on the twin’s backs. The elder version of the boys had long since departed. Not that she could blame them. They were all people for her to answer to but they had all the time in the world. The three souls who walked beside Wanda were pinned now into a finite box. She was going to lose them. They were never hers to lose. As Tommy and Billy obediently moved towards their house their mother took the hand of their father. It was silent except for their boots on the now cracked pavement and the quiet slapping of their capes. One day, there would be too much to unpack. Wanda felt a new thrumming in her chest and magic in her veins. The Scarlet Witch was more than just a name now, it was a point of being. She wore the mantle and the crown with a heavy head. The second their feet hit the threshold of the door the new costume faded away to more mundane clothing. A soft sweater, jeans. Some sneakers. Wanda felt stripped bare and the hardest part had yet to come. “Go get ready for bed, boys.” Her voice was hoarse as she tipped her head towards the stairs. When she looked back at Vision there was a plea in her eyes. The barrier was a soft static hush in the background as it inched closer. She couldn't do this. Not again.
VISION: They’d been moving at an immeasurable pace toward an end that he wasn’t entirely sure sealed much of anything at all. Time seemed slow and fast all at once, which led him to consider that it was merely a construct after all. A simple tool for humans to capture moments of life in numbered little bottles. Not that any of it mattered now — it did — but it could wait. If not for just for the moment: their moment. After all, that’s all life was, wasn’t it? A series of moments that molded bodies and souls all the same. Certainly Wanda and Vision had shared theirs. And while he spent most of their short time in Westview without the memories of their life prior to the Hex, he’d witnessed them within the precious past of a body that was never his to inhabit. And he felt that perhaps now, he understood her more than ever. He understood what they shared, but not what he was. He had all of this history that he couldn’t claim, children, a wife—love, yet once this world closed, this form of his being would cease along with it. What did that mean? What did it matter? Vision took her hand in his red palm and gently intertwined their fingers. They weren’t gone quite yet — he didn’t want her to mourn them before she’d truly lost them. He was determined to outshine the bitterness of what inched closer with the sweetness of what was still left. “Let’s say goodnight.” he said, and though his feet stayed on the ground, he felt himself floating up the stairs into their children’s room. For once he went to Tommy’s bed first, and sat at his feet. He watched Wanda with all the tenderness and normalcy that he could, hoping to leave her with something fond to remember them by. An ounce of reality in all the fiction.
WANDA: Goodnight and goodbye. It was with a bowed head and her heart in her throat that Wanda followed behind her husband up the familiar stairs to the boy’s room. The house hadn’t looked like that at first. It had expanded with her narrative to fit their new and extended family. Two boys at the top of the stairs, the heavy pounding of their footsteps heralding every new day. Her natural instinct would have been to move towards Tommy, but she settled instead by Billy. William, Vision had said. Billy, like Shakespeare. Wanda couldn’t say if she always planned to have twins. She knew Tommy the second he had started to grow in her stomach, but the joy in her husband's face had brought a new life to light inside of her. Smoothing back Billy’s hair, Wanda fumbled with unscripted words. “Snug as a bug. Big day today,” she patted the sheets around him. They were a family. This was the kind of evening that could have happened on any night but Wanda didn’t want to betray what she knew. They were kids. How could she tell them this was the story’s end? Looking to Vision, Wanda took a breath. “It was a big day. Your father and I are… very proud.” She exhaled. “But family is forever. We could never leave each other, even if we tried.” Had she not carried a part of Pietro around in her heart for years? He had always stayed near to her even as his bones turned to ash. “You know that, right?” As Tommy nodded and smiled across the room something inside Wanda fractured. She kissed Billy on the head before rising, trying to mentally document every scent and curl. They were hers even if they were never meant to be. Wanda would always be theirs. She and Vision met in the middle of the room, hands squeezing before she was kissing Tommy’s head. For all the messy parts of Wanda that there were, she had somehow managed to compile only the best of her and Vision into their children. This was her duty as a mother. Her tears were kept so far back she didn’t even have to blink them away as she playfully shook Tommy. Giving Vision his space to say goodbye, Wanda eventually drifted with lead coated feet towards the door. As she looked back the glow of the Hex began to coat the room. “--Boys?” Wanda tore her eyes away from their undoing and back to the boys in their bed. “Thank you for choosing me to be your mom.” Billy smiled, but Wanda knew he had some semblance of an idea even if he couldn’t read her mind specifically. The light flicked off and for a second it was so tempted to stop the Hex’s progression and create the blanket of the barrier again. The red haze was now tinting everything with its light and Wanda took one last look before closing the door on that chapter of her life.
VISION: He hated the idea of missing this, — the mundane nights spent in, tucking the boys to bed and retiring to themselves in front of the TV. He ached of not knowing what would come next for her and not being alongside her to share it. But most of all, he hated the idea of ceasing to be — even if he had no real claim to feel such a way. To have had so much, only to be greeted with a nothingness at the end of it...no promise of paradise, or rebirth. He supposed it was the most human thing he’d ever experienced. Vision let Wanda do most of the talking, trying his best to exist in the precious seconds that ticked by. He forced his gaze on his son rather than the claustrophobic barrier that rapidly closed in from the window. He ruffled Tommy’s hair and stood, forcing one food in front of the other. “Goodnight, Chaps.” prompted a resounding “Goodnight, Dad!” from the both of them and he held onto the warmth it blossomed in his artificial chest. They lingered in the doorway for as long as time would allow until eventually Vision found himself descending back downstairs, after his wife. He turned on a different lamp as she turned hers out, eager to see her face in the light rather than night vision. “Sorry. I read somewhere it’s bad luck to say goodbye in the dark.” He offered a soft smile at that.
WANDA: Over time, Wanda had forgotten how to process. She lost the ability to move through the stages of grief and had nestled into denial as easily as if it were her second skin. Wanda lost and she lost and she lost. She ached, and for what? A moment of reprieve? She had those before the waves crashed back in and she was lost once again in the surf. It was wrong what she had done. After being coaxed through her memories by Agatha she knew that. It was wrong, but it was also the only time she had felt any semblance of right in years. The barrier was cutting its way through the town. She could feel it even if it was out of sight. Grass would grow yellow and wood would grow soft from moisture and lack of upkeep. Westview would return to its bitter self that she had first stumbled upon. Her dream had been their nightmares. The shiny veneer of Westview Wanda had painted wasn’t real. Her hand hovered over a family portrait. No one would remember it being taken. It was just filler anyway, an object in a house to keep up the illusion. No, not a house. Their house, even if it wasn’t this Vision who had so lovingly procured it for her so they could have a home. He would have done the same, Wanda liked to think, as the Vision had. He didn’t know the scope of her tragedy but he loved her. He looked for ways to brighten her life. No sooner than her lamp had clicked off did the one she had already turned off bloom back into light. Wanda couldn't help but start before she turned to see Vision standing by the lamp. “No,” a smile somehow found its way to her lips despite the situation. “You didn’t.”
VISION: He mirrored the soft sadness in her smile with his own. “No…no” he trailed, having grown comfortable in their shared silences...or maybe he just wanted time to stretch longer. “Perhaps not...perhaps I just wanted to see you..clearly.” He gazed at her softly. “And there you are.” He murmured more to himself than anything. She’d always been so beautiful — in more ways than just the high slopes of her cheek bones and the delicate look in her eyes when she allowed herself to be vulnerable. It was difficult to imagine he’d never see that face again...never do anything again.
WANDA: No one had seen her clearly in years. Pietro always had a sharp gaze that could cut through her vague indecision, but without him he had been adrift. The Vision had seen her, too. She felt the Stone that powered him and he looked at her with clear eyes. Dumnezeu, she had loved him. Past, present, future. Wanda knew now that he’d always exist in her breastbone, right alongside the after effects of the Mind Stone. Two ghosts, both shadows of their former selves but spurring her further nonetheless. There you are. It was heartbreak and love all wrapped up as one and reflected in Wanda’s smile. But the Hex was collapsing. She wasn’t the only one who could tell and she gripped his hand by the window. It was too soon. It was five years overdue, and yet, it was too soon. When he turned to her she found a way to tear her gaze from the sight of Westview shifting and locked her eyes on the flickering face of her husband in the red light.
VISION: “Wanda…” Vision started, suddenly feeling their world grow so much smaller as it crashed around them. Hungry scarlet swirls of the red barrier ebbed slowly around them in wait, allowing him to finish. He cast it only the briefest of glances before his gaze returned to his wife. “Before I go,” He begun softly “— I feel I must know… I want to know.....what am I?” Even as he felt himself ask, he wondered maybe it wasn’t his place to — or that it was even a question she could answer, but still he had to at least try. Closure was, in his opinion, often rather loaded. People wanted it, but weren’t prepared for whatever shape it came in. They had expectations, hopes for the way things would end...and often the reality of it was painful. And while he struggled to know if he was ready for closure now, he supposed it didn’t matter. It was never really his story. So maybe what he was really asking now, was for his writer to fit him with an honorable ending — whatever shape it took. He trusted her with that, even if the rest of westview and the world didn’t.
WANDA: This was her fault. All her fault, like so many other things. To her, it had never mattered what he was. He was hers and she was his. It was that simple. Couldn’t two people just be in love? Maybe, but not them. It wasn’t simple and in their case it wasn’t pure with Wanda’s interference. She had made him as she remembered him, but Vision was more than a memory. The Vision had many intricacies and complexities that could never be replicated. She had done the best she could but still had left hollow holes in her husband. It wasn’t fair to the Vision or Vision. “You, Vision,” her hand moved to caress his cheek. People heard synthezoid and assumed his flesh would be cold like metal but it was warm and real under her palm. “Are the piece of the Mind Stone that lives in me. You are a body of wires and blood and bone that I created. You are my sadness and my hope. But mostly, you’re my love.” His hand had fallen over her own at some point and Wanda finally lost the battle with her tears. She loved, she loved and she lost. This time had to be different because she had to accept it. She had look at him in the near darkness and remember just how all encompassing it felt to love and be loved by him in the days that would stretch out when he was gone.
VISION: He grounded himself in the warmth of her palm against his cheek, comforted by the melody of her voice — even with a vastness awaiting him the moment her lips stopped moving. It didn’t matter, he took those precious seconds to kiss her with all the tenderness he found even the complexities of 6,500 human language could not express. “I’ve been a voice with no body...a body but not human...and now…” he met her sad eyes “A memory. Made real.” He wanted so badly to leave her with hope, desperate not to let her drown in her own grief. “Who knows what I might be next.” What we might be. The barrier was closing in now and with it he found himself suddenly feeling the loss of time as if it were a loss of breath — he gently pulled her to him, placing his hand on her cheek in a delicate cradle. “We’ve said goodbye before...so it stands to reason…”
WANDA: Their kiss was bittersweet. It was the first hello of two beings who finally saw each other as they were and the last goodbye between tragic lovers. As a tear tracked down his cheek, Wanda caught it with her thumb. The moisture on her finger pad was real. Androids could cry. Perhaps not all, but hers was special. Vision had always been special and that would never change. To her it would be impossible for him to be reduced to just a memory. She would see him out of the corner of her eyes in the hall or hear a rustling and expect to see him phase through the wall. Scents would escape the kitchen and she would wonder for a second if it was him attempting a dish just because it would make her smile. Wanda had seen sides of the Vision no one else had. She had seen goofy and soft. He was the full spectrum of being, and his quiet steady nature even in the face of oblivion made her cry. She had never deserved him. Not really, at least. He was worthy to hold the hammer of Thor and Wanda -- she broke things, she threw fits and hurt people. From the moment she had sensed him in dreaming under Ultron’s watchful eye in the Cradle she had been doomed. Wanda felt love in her life but she never managed to hold onto it. It was a stream and the water always flowed right past her before her thirst was quenched. Vision was a memory made real, sure. But in Wanda’s mind he would always be real. We’ve said goodbye before, so it stands to reason... Wanda clutched either side of his head as her eyes frantically traced the lines of his face so she could memorize every one. “...That we’ll say hello again.” She was nodding quickly as the red raced through the town and finally made contact. The house began to fluctuate through all the variations that Wanda had forced upon it. The reality began to unwrite herself right in front of her eyes, but she was going to hold onto her husband until she couldn’t anymore.
VISION: The barrier came for them rapidly, then, and all he felt was her. Her hands on his face, her being somehow tethered to his as his body began to come apart much more gently than before. It wasn’t a ceasing to exist, merely a return home — a return to where he’d existed from the beginning: within her. It wasn’t painful, and it wasn’t something to fear anymore. So many more things he wished to say to her, seconds he’d ask for if they could. But they were out of time. “So long, my darling.” Until, hello.
WANDA: It didn’t end with a bang. It ended with a soft smile and the echo of a voice before its owner ceased to be. She felt him slowly fade out of her grasp until she was left clutching nothing but the air. The house -- their house -- had reverted back to a foundation that would never be built upon. Wanda wouldn’t sell but she could never live there either. Her happiness had lived and died within those fallen walls. Her heart was splintering in her chest. Clothed once more in the outfit she had worn when she arrived in Westview, Wanda slipped her hood up over her hair and ignored her car as she began her funeral procession of one back to town square. A promise was a promise, but Agatha’s words were heavy in her heart. There would always be pitchforks or women like them. Stepping into view, Wanda kept her head held high. “It’s over.”
SAM: His lips flattened into a tight line. “Jesus, Carol.” So much for a happy reunion. “Wanda fucked up -- bad. But she’s going to say goodbye to kids. Her kids. Give her ten.” He believed she’d come back, and she did. Defeated but present.
LORNA: Her sister had just turned and left with the family she had made. Lorna had a sinking feeling that Wanda would be the only one she saw again. “What can I say?” the words felt flat in her mouth. “I like to feel desired.” She turned to look at Remy then. He looked the same, if not ragged. It was hard to tell. Lorna felt like someone else all together -- which was fair, situation depending. “They let you in here?”
CAROL: Carol shot Sam a look, one that was one part confused and one part angry. She knew she struggled with the grey area, but rarely did her and Sam grate so blatantly. "That in comparison to torturing people for months. Sure." She was tired of the passes, but she'd relented and thrown her hands up. Once Wanda came back in to view, Carol didn't even make a move to approach her. Like Sam, Carol was tired too, but for an entirely different reason. "You did the right thing." She said, though there was no sense of sympathy in her tone. "The people of Westview are being extensively checked for neurological damage or magical after effects. They'll be lucky if they don't suffer from PTSD after this." she knew she wasn't making any friends here. Carol didn't care. But still, she shifted slightly so her body was turned towards Monica. "This is your case, Rambeau. By all means,"
REMY: "You know I have a habit of getting in even when I don't belong." He said passively. He was looking at her, but not really. He was exhausted, the feeling dragging him down over the past few weeks Lorna had been in here. He truly was spending most of their relationship losing her and it stung a little more every time. Still, "Are you okay?" it was a question said off to the side, because there was no way that conversation could happen now. He just had to ask.
WANDA: Two women forged by Infinity Stones. Carol and Wanda were powerful but in different ways. “They suffered.” She replied simply. “Extensively. And I’m sorry. I never meant to make my pain theirs as well.” That, at least, was true. It had not been her original intention but she had perpetuated willingly later on. “You’re not arresting me. But I’ll go with you willingly, Captain Rambeau. I owe you that much.”
MONICA: “Me?” Monica arched a brow. “Yeah, I’d say that’s fair.” Wanda had thrown her from town and caused Monica’s cells to metastasize. She had also used her powers to throw her around another time. Monica had felt Wanda’s pain first hand and was left with a detached pity. “Wanda Maximoff,” she began the formalities. “I’m Captain Monica Rambeau. I am officially bringing you into holding under the authority of S.W.O.R.D. I am not required to read you your rights as you register as a threat to the Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division and will be treated as such. Do you understand?”
LORNA: Normally she’d launch flirtatious barbs back with him, but Lorna just gestured around slowly. “Not really a desirable place to be. At his question her brow furrowed. “No. Not really, but I will be.” Insanity did run in the family. “I need to find my Father. We need to go to Krakoa.”
REMY: "Why do you think we're here?" he asked, though there wasn't much room for answering. "There's no reason we should stay now. There's a gate close by." it was a suggestion for them to leave now, to turn away from Lorna's sister being taken in by SWORD.
LORNA: “Maybe you’re a fan of the show,” her tone was sardonic at best. No reason to stay. No reason to watch Wanda hauled off. The two sisters had ever been closed but it rattled Lorna more than she wanted to admit. Her family didn’t handle grief. No member of the Monarchy of M seemed to be sane. They threw tantrums and raged. Would she have done the same as Wanda? Maybe, if Lorna loved anyone that much. Far more agreeable than usual, Lorna turned away from Wanda in the square.
WANDA: “I understand.” Wanda nodded. She could never give the citizen of Westview the last two months back but she could at least own up to her own shortcomings -- of which there were a multitude. As Wanda took a step towards Monica her clothing rippled. Magic was always present. If she was going to leave Westview it was with a shrivel of her dignity intact. The hood of her jacket had redesigned itself into a cloak, red fabric falling over bare shoulders. There would be time later to address Agatha and wrap up that plot line. “And I’m ready.”
PIETRO: Pietro arrived in time to see S.W.O.R.D. and F.B.I. swarming the area like bees in a frenzy. A boom snapped through the air as he slammed to a halt, feet ripping up chunks of pavement — Christ, he had to get better at that. Fixing his sleeve, Pietro stood up straight and rolled his shoulders some, shoving his snowy hair out of his face. “I’m gone five minutes and you already want to get yourself arrested.” he said, walking around from behind her. He cast a glance to the others — Monica, Carol, Sam — scattered agents all braced for anything. “Just like old times, ah?” They had a lot to talk about — but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see her. She had to have known it was coming even though he didn’t ask, he just lifted her off the ground and shot off with a sonic boom, leaving nothing but a breeze and a standstill in their wake as he put over a hundred miles between them and Westview in two seconds flat.
DAISY: Daisy was waiting patiently in the back for the potential of Wanda running off, although she wasn’t quite sure any of them besides Carol were prepared to be able to stop that sort of escape. Even if she did feel for Wanda’s situation, there were rules they had to follow. And rules she swore to uphold when she became an agent. She blinked in surprise when she saw Pietro run up, surprised at how fast he was. She knew he was a speedster from the files she’d read, but it was an entirely different thing to see it in person. And then before anyone could even say anything, there was a loud boom and just wind blowing by them and both Wanda and Pietro vanished into thin air. After a few beats of stunned silence, Daisy let out a sigh and shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Now S.W.O.R.D was going to have to look for both of the Maximoff twins after this whole mess. It was definitely a frustrating ending after being so close to getting Wanda to willingly come talk with them, and Daisy could feel a nagging irritation prickling under her skin as she shook her head. “I’m going to go help with those extractions.” She stated to Carol and Monica before turning and walking off back towards the direction of the base.
WANDA: This was the last thing she needed. Denial, anger, bargaining and now, after a painful breakthrough: acceptance. Wanda wasn’t resigned but renewed. They were mad and could have their moment. The energy from Darkhold whispered in her ear even though it was out of sight. Wanda was ready to face the stake they would inevitably try to force her to burn on, but then someone was making quips. The reverent air of a battleground that hadn’t completely found an ending was charged with a boom that rattled her teeth. Five minutes? It was five years and then some. Her eyes drifted closed. Wanda’s Westview was gone and her constructs with it. Everything left was real, but was he? This was a question she had turned over in her mind again and again. Acceptance. He was hers. He always had been. Agatha had laughed that he couldn’t be returned because his body had been left broken and isolated on foreign soil. Wrong and wrong. Vision and the boys had been tied to the town. It anchored their reality. Pietro was the exception. His accidental resurrection was tied to the one who had been half of his being. Pietro existed as Wanda did, their connection once again rekindled even though it was tainted red. There had been no reunion yet. Their interactions were tense and filled with a one sided disgust. Wanda had clung to an illusion because she was terrified of the fact that there was one thing she couldn’t replicate. This was real but Wanda did not deserve it. Not after what she had done. As her eyes fluttered open, Wanda’s lips parted. She was going to tell Carol it changed nothing, even though everything was different. She was culpable still. Instead her feet were pulled out from underneath her in the same disorienting blur that had once been familiar. Hair whipping around her face, Wanda’s hood had fallen off by the time he skidded to a stop. Blue and silver streaked the air behind him. The only thing new was the scarlet that threaded through the afterimage, the trail of magic that was still fresh on its mistress. The ground crunched underneath the wedged heels of her boots once contact was made. There was a cold wind but the heat of her magic still flushed her cheeks. “Pietro?” The word fell from her lips and hung in the air between them. Where did she start? You’re back? I’m sorry? I need to go face my fate? Wanda just stood there and stood for a long moment. It didn’t matter that she was the Scarlet Witch, chaos bound in flesh. It didn’t matter how powerful she was. Right then she was ten years old and flat on her stomach as the Stark missile ticked away. She hadn’t known then it was her power stopping it from going off as probability twisted. Pietro was the one keeping them safe as he held her close. She had always assumed it would be him who filled that role but now she had years of experience and tragedy that had affixed itself to her being and turned her into the woman she had become. But that was for later. She could be strong and suffer in a silent dignity later. Right then she was closing the space between them until her arms were wrapped tightly around his chest and her head pressed over the spot where his heart beat a little too quickly. “Îmi pare rău, frate. Îmi pare așa, atât de rău. ( I'm sorry, brother. I'm so, so sorry. ) If Wanda kept her head down she wouldn’t have to look at his eyes and see if disdain still lived there. “I lost you.”
PIETRO: He’d thought about what he might say to her if she ever did finally speak to him again — without all the facade of Westview to deafen her ears from everything he said. He wondered if he’d hold on to his anger—but it had morphed. Mutating into a hurt he didn’t know how to place. That he could. He knew it wasn’t intentional, but that was the sad part...it...it didn’t matter. Crystalia didn’t want Wanda anywhere near their daughter and while he understood her reasons, that didn’t make the cut any shallower. He shared everything with her, as a being he very much considered an extension of hims own, it was difficult not to bring her into the life of his child. And so he was crossed between the boy that would sever his own limbs just to quell the quiver of Wanda’s lip, and the man that wanted to stand by his soon to be wife. Maybe he fueled that into the mad dash he did away from Westview, because he didn’t even realize how far he’d gone until he started to smell salt. It was different to run so long with her, but she’d always been a light load. Pietro finally stopped when he hit the west coastline—kicking up an array of sand as he slid with her. It was one of his more graceful stops, but that wasn’t saying much. He set her on her feet and for once kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to say—literally anything. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but as she fell into him he felt his world tip a little, back into place. His hands gently smoothed the curls of her unnaturally strawberry red hair and he wrapped both arms around her. “nN pentru totdeauna” not forever, he said. In the most predictable way, his anger melted away, but it did leave welts in the wake of its fire. Dor the first time in their lives he didn’t know where her head was at—and he’d never needed telepathy to do that. And though he could never hate her, and he could never want her out of his life, he didn’t know where that left them. And he silently dreaded the problems having wanda in their lives would inevitably cause with the mother of his child.
WANDA: She lost him, but she had found him. Wanda couldn’t put into words how much that meant. “And now I have so much to tell you but it’s not the time. I have to go back, Pietro. I need to face what I’ve done.” It was the right thing to do, after all. Wanda owed the people she hurt and had given Monica her word. Flicking her hood back on so it cast a shadow over his face, she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Goodbye, frate. We’ll be together again soon.”
MONICA: There was no reason for handcuffs when the woman they would shackle was a literal witch who could apparently teleport when she was in the mood to. Monica was immensely grateful for Wanda’s cooperation and had her own opinions on the matter. Wanda had been wrong. Her actions were more than just hurtful, they were dangerous. Monica knew that just as well as she knew that if she had been in Wanda’s shoes with her powers she would have done the same. It didn’t make her actions excusable or meant that Monica forgave her. She just had a throbbing sense of balanced justice instilled in her by her mother. Wanda would face the jury and it consistent of more than just Monica. But then, Pietro. Shit. He had been a little bit of a wild card ever since Wanda yeeted his kid and girlfriend (?) into the Hex. Now he was in a place to potentially cause an escalation with Wanda -- who had just returned and was compliant. “Maximoff,” Monica took a step forward and found herself blinking away grit that Quicksilver’s feet had kicked up. He was gone and Wanda had vanished with him. “Jesus.” Monica resisted the urge to turn and smack the solid army truck behind her. She could survive being shot but something told her that all she’d accomplish was becoming the owner of a broken hand. Nodding at Daisy, Monica made no move to follow her. Instead she turned to Carol, who had proven herself to be a powder keg consistently in danger of exploding. Had she always been like that? Monica couldn’t remember but childhood memories were faulty. They were blurred fact with fiction. Sam, at least, looked more stoic with his arms crossed over his chest. “--she’s coming back.” Monica pursed her lips. “Wanda was ready to go in, she was listening.”
REMY: "Haven't bothered to watch." His tone remained level as they started for the break in the wall. He had come prepared for a fight, but he was leaving with none, and he could feel the dissatisfaction even if he'd ultimately won in the end. It had been a tough few weeks and all his sitting had caught him in a loop with no outlet. "Your sister will be fine." He offered as the neared the edge. "We know people who have done far worse and are sitting on our country's council."
CAROL: Carol stared at the spot where Wanda had disappeared for too long, her eyes boring into the gravel of a city that had returned to its poorly maintained state. Though her features remained neutral, the tension in her shoulders was immense and all she wanted to do was strangle not one, but two Maximoff’s now. Forcing out a breath, Carol completely missed Daisy's comment and instead turned towards Monica. "I know." she acquiesced. "And yet here we are." Standing in the center of a town that had been pulled through the decades by magic, its citizens mind controlled and tortured, and the only person to blame was gone. "Maybe we should coordinate with Krakoa." she looked towards Sam, but it was nothing more than a passing glance. There was a lot to unpack there, but their personal lives could never cross into their professional. "As much as I'd love to argue with Frost that, although Wanda is a citizen a Krakoa and therefore untouchable, her mass mind manipulation of US citizens stands to reason she needs to face a trial. It's not a witch hunt," she said pointedly. "But Pietro did just implicate himself in this mess."
SAM: Maybe. Sam shifted before straightening up. “Last I heard, Wanda was pretty estranged. If we talk to anyone, it’s Magneto.” It was unlikely that the Master of Magnetism was going to be biased because it was his daughter. “But outside of Krakoa, Wanda isn’t a U.S. citizen either. There’s not a home country we can send her to for trial anymore.” That made her their problem. It was a little less messy internationally. “The guy was dead up until two months ago and hasn’t gotten to actually talk to her since. Guess we should have seen that coming.”
LORNA: What, could he not be bothered to tune into the home torture network to at least see that she was alive? Lorna just snorted, Westview now fading into the background. “Good for you. Hope Wanda gave me a new liver when she rewrote reality because all I’ve done recently is get wasted and make out with would be frat guys.” Which had never been her type. “Wanda is Wanda. She makes big messes and everyone finds a way to forgive her. She lays low and then the cycle repeats.” Not that Lorna could take another Decimation. The glow of the emergency gate that the mutants had situated by the barrier emitted a soft glow. “Like my father.”
REMY: Remy had avoided the broadcast because he hadn't been privy to watch, even if he knew he wouldn't have bothered given the chance. It was...a complicated mess of feeling, and he was still sorting through it. Lorna's words didn't help, but he didn't comment on them. He wanted out of Westview, he wanted to be back on Krakoa. They emerged together through the breach and he led her to where the mutants emerged originally - the closest gate back to Krakoa. "We can talk more once we're back." He wanted out of here. Away from the mess Wanda had formed. If he could, he would've rather pretend it never happened.
CAROL: "Guess we should've." Carol muttered, eyes flitting up to the sky and then back down again. "We can send a team in to do a clean sweep, gather up any evidence we may need. Otherwise, I think we need to get started on the citizens. Make sure everyone is okay." It wasn't necessarily their job to aid at this point, but Carol felt separated from victory, and she needed to do something. "Monica can make a call, I'm sure."
MONICA: She was not about to be in the middle of a lovers quarrel. It felt like she had been in her S.W.O.R.D. sweater and training pants for days. Her skin was sticky with sweat and the adrenaline had begun to wear off. Carol, Sam and Monica were some of the last remaining, three Captains who covered the spectrum in how angry they were. “Sam,” she turned towards Wilson. “We need a trauma evaluation. They’re not letting us do anything until after that.” It was just standard protocol. They’d need to find Wanda and the White Vision who had smashed through the town before vanishing. Agatha Harkness was still weak on the ground, stuck in stasis. They couldn’t restrain her. They needed Wanda and her fancy magic shapes for that. And, S.W.O.R.D. needed a director. It wouldn’t be Monica. She didn’t want it. That had been Maria’s job and her daughter didn’t want to squeeze into her shoes. She had always preferred walking beside her too much. It would be Abigail she talked to after Brand finished her counseling as well. S.W.O.R.D. would heal. Maria would never be back but her legacy would persevere. “We’re going to find Maximoff.” Monica sent a look to Carol as she began to take a few steps back. “She promised, and I’m big on holding people to their word.” She’d make her call. She’d do what she needed to, and at some point Monica would sleep. Westview was free. They were free. Why didn’t it feel like it?
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Hm. I love Rowena and I think her and Sam's relationship is a delight, but I have to say I haven't noticed any particular /romantic/ cues for them? I don't hate the idea, I'm just... apparently not seeing what some other people are seeing, in canon. I'd be curious to see what specific moments are giving you that vibe as opposed to the enemies-to-friends/found family vibe I've been getting -- do you know if there are any S/R metas around, that would lay that out clearly?
Hi! I’ve heard this from a lot of people, and I’m just baffled? I mean, there’s at least as much of what I’d consider the beginnings of romantic interest as there was between Dean and Cas in s4-5-6 even… via a lot of the same tropes.
I don’t know if there’s been a proper meta on it, on the evolution of their relationship, but I guess I’m adding that to the unbearably long list of things I need to write in detail.
From their first meeting in 10.07, I wondered if there was some potential there. Rowena was a natural witch, and the history of the notion of “witch!Sam” has been floating around since he first demonstrated his demon blood powers back in s1. Here was a witch that was clearly being set up for a bigger antagonistic role in a season where she would clearly not be the Big Bad. I think a lot of people pulled the plug on that idea the minute it was discovered she was Crowley’s mother… and they just were never able to think of her in that kind of role again.
But she has a very long history with Sam, going back to the antagonistic allies-turned-whatever-the-heck-that-was at the end of s10, to her own self-discovery arc through s11 and s12, where she gradually (but almost exclusively with Sam) began to bond with the Winchesters.
Their conversation about Lucifer in 13.12 and their shared trauma over that, which Sam said he’d never even talked to Dean about… That… is groundbreaking for Sam. Considering every woman he’d ever had a relationship with in canon didn’t even know about ANY of the hunting, and yet he opened up to Rowena about something so deeply personal he’d never told another living soul? That was probably the spark for me in seeing the potential here. Literally in an episode where another pair of witches repeatedly used love spells to manipulate men to do their bidding, Rowena had this moment of naked honesty with Sam.
At the end of that episode, when Dean discovers that Sam gave Rowena the page of the grimoire that she’d wanted, Dean’s angry. Sam… trusted her, believed in her, despite saying if that decision went sideways, he’d “take care of it.” Because of what we learned in 13.19, that every single one of Billie’s books about Rowena end with Sam Winchester killing her… I mean… it’s kinda… a profound… sort of bond… they share…
She was heartbroken in that scene in the alley, when she realized that yes, Sam really could shoot her. And that moment was literally when everything changed. Sam… saw that look on her face.
You can see him feeling regret here, despite already knowing that he is “destined” to kill her. I mean… by the end of the episode (yes, Dean is there participating in the conversation, too, but this was so much between Sam and Rowena), they’re talking about changing their fates. And Rowena is now officially Team Sam.
This is also the episode where she has several opportunities to kill Sam, and yet doesn’t. She could’ve very easily rewritten her own destiny by killing him, but instead let go of one pain of her past (her guilt over Crowley). And in that moment she chose to move forward in a new way.
And since then she’s been in multiple episodes where she and Sam have paralleled Dean and Cas. I just don’t know why people refuse to see the same exact parallels they used to set up Sam’s two episode relationship with Eileen are being used between Sam and Rowena (and have been, on a much slower course than with Eileen).
She was brought in by Sam in 14.07 to help heal Jack, and Dean literally “fuzzed out” during some of those conversations. Sam was her primary contact there, despite the family feel of the episode. And then we have 14.14 where Rowena’s literally paired with Sam having some sort of heart to heart study session while Cas and Dean have their own… through the whole episode…
She stands up to Michael, terrified, and laughs at him anyway because Sam Winchester will be the one to kill her, not him. SAM WINCHESTER has effectively become her mantra that allows her to laugh in the face of her own death. I mean, that’s a freaking powerful thing. Not “oh the Winchesters” but SAM.
(this is starting to feel like attempting to explain destiel to someone who doesn’t see it… and I’m afraid I’m not doing a very good job of it)
She also fits every single one of Sam’s criteria for a relationship. She’s someone in the life. She understands his worst trauma and his struggle with magical powers. She understands his desire for security and stability. And even though she’s a witch, she’s a hunter by every definition they’ve ever given… she’s even died and come back to life (multiple times).
I need someone to tell me how this– and what I’ve shared here is literally off the top of my head and by no means the full meta I could write on this– doesn’t measure up to Sam’s relationship with Eileen. Sure, he doesn’t have a history of the “cuter” stuff they gave him with Eileen in 12.17, but that, to me, gives his relationship with Rowena even more weight in comparison.
I’ve read a lot of meta comparing Saileen to Destiel, trope for trope, the direct parallels. But that’s… small scale. Sam and Rowena, to me, parallels the bigger picture of Destiel. Maybe not point for point, but that wouldn’t really be fair to Sam, would it? Doesn’t he deserve his own unique thing, and not just a speed run through the destiel highlight reel? But the overarching, big picture evolution of their relationship is just as profound as what Dean and Cas have, and honestly that is the LEAST that Sam deserves, you know?
This is obviously not to say that I definitely think the show is going there, just as I wouldn’t say they’re definitely going there with Destiel. This is just how I see things now, and the potential I see for the future if they chose to take it there.
eta: a couple of links mel found to more structural meta on samwitch that may be of interest in addition to the added checklist item that they’ve both been possessed by an archangel now, as well (they have REALLY been pushing Rowena into being more of a hunter):
https://neven-ebrez.tumblr.com/post/183371417718/so-youre-right-about-michael-killing-the-au
and
https://neven-ebrez.tumblr.com/post/184229815703/i-really-liked-how-mary-was-portrayed-this-season
#spn s15 speculation#samwitch#well i mean sort of speculation? more just freeform thoughts about sam and rowena's history#sorry this is so slapdash i literally typed most of it up while doing six other things...#flyingfish1
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PLOTTING POST
for Junmyeon, please contact me on discord if you want one of these or shoot me a message here!
❝ Antecedent ❞
Junmyeon is finding out more and more about his ‘other self’, a shadow in the back of his head. Is he suffering from some kind of Dissociative identity disorder or something else? Will you, a dark creature, bring him further into this reality or try to save him from who is lurking in the past?
[ possible friendship, either harmful or beneficial for Junmyeon ]
❝ Grimoire of a broken record ❞
There was always something that kept the two of you in disarray. Meeting again at the academy was not a happy instance for either. Yet it seems it is destiny for the two of you to meet again and again. Junmyeon is intrigued as well as annoyed by your presence.
[ Anger, possible violence or something else? Who knows, rivalry either in ghost hunting, archaeology or something else ]
❝ An assassin of dreams and good-luck wishes ❞
There is not much Junmyeon can influence when it comes to his good luck charm, it is just one of those things that just happens. Yet when a handsome stranger finds out he is a good luck charm things do not go as well as planned or hoped and Junmyeon finds himself in a bit of a difficult situation.
[ Angst, possible NSFW, possible mature themes like gambling, drugs etc. ]
❝ Amber, honey, ruby and the colors of the sky ❞
taken by @eastsolis
There is an instant connection between Junmyeon and the man, a dangerous connection that ends in Junmyeon coming out of his comfort zone. Will you push him further out of it or let him be the man he is and accept him? Will you be his rebound?
[ Possible crush from Junmyeon (not necessarily answered), possible friendship. ]
❝ Unease, Upset & Unappealing ❞
Junmyeon finds them extremely annoying. They will not leave them alone even if he asks nicely and thus the owlite gets irritated. But they do not get angry easily but they manage to push him over the edge. Will the other party flee or fight? Or perhaps cry?
[ funny plot, foes, something along those lines. ]
CURSED BOOKS SERIES
Junmyeon got some cursed books in, he isn’t aware but whenever he shows it to a potential customer the book will pull them into the story for an undetermined time. Are you ready to explore AU’s without it being an… AU? They will live in the story/world but not become the main characters if that makes sense… or just live in that time period…
Available books:
Lord of the Rings (Or The Hobbit alternatively)
Percy Jackson and the lightning thief it has been too long since i’ve read these.
Harry Potter
The death cycle books (if you know this book series: lets get married)
Any other book you might want to explore let me know!!
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Abigail Warren Harper
Jax’s mother comes from a long line of distinguished sorcerers. Although Jax does not know it, his family line started with the estranged sorcerer who helped create the Jewels of Destiny. Throughout the centuries, the bloodline hasn’t exactly cleaned up its act. Most generations secretly use their powers for their own gain at the expense of others.
Abigail’s parents were no different. They had to hide what they were from society, but that didn’t stop them from practicing their craft. Plenty of unsuspecting humans suffered at the hands of the Warren’s. Abigail watched what happened as she grew up, but instead of being pulled in by the gravity of her family’s power, she was horrified by it.
When Abigail was 19, she got pregnant out of wedlock and fled her family home to keep her baby from her family’s dark magical practices. She stole their grimoire and went straight to the home of the father of her baby. She hoped to marry him and live under his protection. That plan didn’t work out. Michael Harper turned her away when she revealed that she was pregnant with his child. Without any money or anywhere to call home, she took to the streets of London. Eventually, she found room and board for herself and her baby. When Jax was born, she gave him his father’s name and started going by that surname as well so that Jax would never know who his mother’s family was.
Abigail absolutely refused to perform any magic. She locked the family grimoire away and forbid Jax to practice any spells. No matter how poor or hungry they got, Abigail would not lift her hand and use magic to improve their lot in life. She raised Jax alone until he turned 16, stole her family’s grimoire, and ran away.
To this day, Abigail lives in hiding from her parents and refuses to practice magic. Without her son to look after, there’s no temptation to use even the smallest spells. Abigail does not know that her family descends from the estranged sorcerer. All she knows is that they practice dark magic that she wants nothing to do with.
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