and when the dust of your rage settles you’re left in the dark palms pressed into your eyes wondering why you weren’t good enough
i blame myself. -jg (via
wreckstars
)
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@miraclexwitch
and when the dust of your rage settles you’re left in the dark palms pressed into your eyes wondering why you weren’t good enough
i blame myself. -jg (via
wreckstars
)
padshiy:
He’s almost caught frozen here. But he’s used to being seen by people. He’s used to talking to people, he’s learned to deal with people. He’s learned to play by the rules, he’s learned to come back into being a human being. You have to relearn the skills that they took from you. He did it for two years before Steve had found him. Yes, he uses a fake name, but he doesn’t have a choice. His birth name leads into too much. He hates being defined by the history he had no choice in. He swallows for a moment. He’s still holding his bag of fruit finishing the barter with the women in the stall before he turns to the face he saw about six months ago. “I see Steve did what he said he was going to do.” He pauses mouth dry for a moment. ‘Relax, I’m not going to go and run. I live out here. I choose to escape from everything that happened. You of all people get that right?” His fingers offer her a plum, he can be nice. Wanda has never given him a reason to run from her, she’s just as damaged as him.
Steve had never shared the FULL details on where Bucky had run off to all those months ago if he even KNEW himself, but a part of Wanda had always assumed he had simply went back to LIVING. It was an idea that she mulled over for days, weeks, MONTHS before setting her own LIFE back into action. She had been tired of hiding away. Her LATE brother had never been one to settle in one place for to long, and she had adopted such an IDEAL. So she had MOVED FORWARDS. At least for a little while - to clear her head, but she hadn’t EXPECTED to run into the man now standing before her with a plum outstretched to her like an OLIVE BRANCH.
Tentative fingers reach out to PLUCK the plum from his grasp as Wanda’s mind RACES. What was she to do here? He said that he wasn’t going to RUN - but of course that’s not why she was HERE. A place in fact that NO ONE knew, as the young witch had thought it EASIER to simply slip away. His words sank in, and even though the panic still swelled beneath her chest that this meeting would SOMEHOW get back to Steve and the others, a smile TOUCHED her lips regardless. Oh, if only he knew how WELL she understood.
❝Me of all v’eople. YES. I get z’hat. I ... v’ell you could z’ay I am escaping too. Z’here v’ere to many REMINDERS.❞
Wanda PAUSES here and her eyes FLICKER over towards the couple now bartering with other patrons. Perhaps their attention is turned elsewhere, but she can’t help but FEAR they’ll pick up on something and connect the dots, so with a quick and steadying breath she shakes her head and takes one small step BACKWARDS.
❝I do NOT v’ean to intrude on z’his life you’ve v’ade for yourself. I ... z’hould be going. I z’hink z’hat is v’est no?❞
padshiy:
@miraclexwitch (x )
He’s out buying plums ironically enough, just as he was the last time. He’s already got a bag of mangoes however fingers carrying the bag with ease. He carries it with his side, flesh hand picking at the plums, bartering with the marketplace people. It’s easier living here than the states, he makes his own keep by selling home brewed liqueur that’s a strong proof but not strong enough to be considered illegal. But here he stands buying fruits to make some spiced brandy with. Give it a rich flavor.
Wanda hadn’t been able to stay in that PLACE. After Steve had hijacked the prison in which his TEAM were being held, Wanda had felt TRAPPED. It mattered NOT that she wasn’t psychically being held down any more, the walls always felt as though they were closing in on her. So after things settled down a bit, the young WITCH fled towards something more FAMILIAR. What she would have gave to be back HOME in Sokovia, walking the streets side by side with her BROTHER - but perhaps THESE streets were close enough.
The bustle of the crowd was of comfort, but she could feel eyes on her everywhere she went. There was no ESCAPING who she was - what she had done. But perhaps RUNNING from prying eyes was something she could do for just a LITTLE BIT longer. So side stepping an ELDERLY woman who had stared for just a SECOND to long, Wanda ducked into the nearest booth under the pretense that FRUIT was something that she had needed. A quick smile was shot towards the man behind the stand before her shoulder collided with the person standing besides her - and then the smile was directed towards HIM instead with an apologetic tone overtaking her features.
❝Forgive me z’ir. I did not v’ean to !!! ❞
A sign of recognition flashed before her eyes and she stopped dead in her tracks, but made NO attempt to finish her sentence.
Le sigh. I opened this browser on accident while trying to log into another account and it made me sad to see that this one has sat here for 6 months without being touched. I wanna bring her back now who still loves me here?
@sokoviasilver || modern royals au starter
They were FUCKED. so FUCKING fucked. Wanda’s mind had been RACING for the past several hours now and while her BROTHER was the one person she needed to talk to - he was the only one NOT AROUND. She PACED the house mindlessly, ignoring all watchful eyes from the MANY maids and just waited until the time TICKED by enough to signal his arrival home. When she couldn’t stand the sight of others any longer though, Wanda found herself in Pietro’s bedroom, the very one she herself spent so many nights in. Which once again reminded her of how FUCKED they were. Being so lost in her own thoughts, the brunette was OBLIVIOUS to any and all noise now, even though she was ONCE to keen to the sound of the clock.
(yupp totally anon) your character portrayal? Well, amazing would be an understatement. I love the way you play Wanda. Even in our AUs. I can hear her voice each time I read one of your replys. Her thoughts, actions, mannerisms, all dead on. I don't know where I'd be without the bae tbh <3
Anonymously tell me what you think of my character portrayal.
much anon! - so mysterious!
I don’t deserve you bae, that is all I’ve gotta say about that!
@miraclexwitch
“Do you think you could make me levitate?”
❝Z’he CAPTAIN and I ‘ave been v’orking on doing just z’hat. Z’o yes, I z’hink I could. V’hy do you ask?❞
Anonymously tell me what you think of my character portrayal.
Someone make me a pretty psd for my icons / ACTUALLY make my icons for me? tbh I really want those 200x100 sized ones but I don’t wanna cap everything (rather, I don’t want to save all the caps first)
alternatively - if you have a shit ton of caps/cropped icons already saved for her, help a girl out?
There’s a part of me MOURNING over here because I can’t do my drafts.
And then there’s ANOTHER part of me trying to figure out if I should make a ROGUE blog from xmen because holy shit. For some reason I had a dream last night about her trying to control her powers but Bobby’s a weak ass punk and doesn’t want to help so PYRO comes along and he’s like - sure, just touch my arm until I don’t want you to anymore. whatever - and so that continues for like….a while idk man it was a DREAM. but then she can control it better (but only with him at first?) and omf the feelings. I ship it you guys. someone give it to me. I WANT IT.
Bringing this back for the second part! I wanna be in the X-Men fandom again!
Currently watching DEADPOOL because I am now the proud owner of the DVD - but while I enjoy this:
If anyone is interested in playing PYRO from xmen across a ROUGE that I’m thinking about making, either like this or come to me for plot ideas because BOY do I have some!
qserasera:
otp sparring: nice
otp sparring until one of them has a back to the wall and a blade at their throat: excellent
the other person dropping their weapon and the otp is k i s s i n g: I WILL LIFT THIS TABLE AND FLI P IT
halsey // control
sovietxsecretweapon:
Psychologically unstable. Those words still stung. After all he’d done for his country he’d been sent home on those grounds. That and of course the terrible injury he’d sustained. It was difficult to face. However he was recovering now, getting used to being back home, trying to rebuild his life. He was going to the group sessions and talking to a therapist despite his initial protests and now he had the prosthetic. His doctor had recommended some sort of physical activity that would incline him to use the arm more and his therapist was nagging about getting him out of the house more, picking up a new hobby to spend the time. This all eventually led to the piano lessons. Apparently this woman had been teaching other vets before and it helped them to regain their motor skills and balance their mind.
So days later Bucky found himself making his way up the steps to where his new teacher lived. There were some nerves since he was unsure what to expect from this. Moments after he rang the doorbell a young woman opened and he did his best to put up a friendly smile. “Just James or Bucky is fine really.” His smile is genuine now, hearing her sweet accent. “Ms. Maximoff, wasn’t it?”
❝V’lease call me WANDA - come in, come in!❞
Stepping aside and allowing him to pass over the threshold, Wanda’s smile GREW in size. She was happy to see that he had come on his own, for some of THE OTHERS had been forced into such activities. Older VETERANS who thought the idea was CHILDISH or BENEATH THEM - but Wanda had never JUDGED them. They had been through Hell and back, she understood that - she’d LIVED through some of it herself - but it was REFRESHING to see the young man standing there ALONE. She ushered him inside before closing the door quietly behind him then turned to face him with a QUIET clap of her hands. In the past she learned LOUD or SUDDEN movements were to be avoided until a TRUST was gained.
❝It is a v’leasure to v’eet you JAMES. V’ould you z’ike z’omething to drink?❞
Wanda wondered vaguely where the nickname “BUCKY” had come from, but she resisted the temptation to ask. There would be time to get to know each other later - for now she had to establish a SAFE ZONE for him. Pietro didn’t like the idea of strangers coming into their home while he was away, knowing that any one of them could have a war flashback at any moment, so this was their way of compromising. Pietro would WILLINGLY leave the house if she promised to do everything she could to make it SAFE for her. It seemed SILLY perhaps, but she’d indulge him for now.
❝ or z’omething to eat? I z’hink it v’ould be nice to z’it and z’alk a little v’efore v’e z’tart if you are okay v’ith z’hat?❞
i’m at your back door with the earth of a hundred nations in my skin. you won’t recognize me, for the light in my eyes is STRANGE . it was years ago, god knows, when you strained to tell me your whole truth —— that YOU WERE NOT MINE TO SAVE , that you could not change. oh, would it be enough to go by if we could sail on the wind in the dark? cut those CHAINS in the middle of the night that had you pulled apart? would it be enough to go by if there’s moonlight pulling the tide? would it be enough to live on if MY LOVE could keep you ALIVE ? ( art cred. )
videniye:
oh, now he’s beyond uncomfortable. whiskered jaw is set in an unrelenting frown, one of concern and embarrassment and DISGUST at himself —— he should be the last person to lay a hand on her. NATASHA was more than capable of helping out another woman, wasn’t she? or did her bitterness at wanda’s COMPLETENESS as a woman really run so deep?
he’s flustered for sure, but not so wrapped up in himself as to not help out his TEAMMATE —— keeping his eyes firmly trained on the tile, he reaches out first with his metal hand; he hesitates, withdraws the steel fingertips, and carefully plucks at the strings of the robe with his flesh-and-bone fingers. it comes apart easily — too easily, he thinks; what, was nat trying to SET HIM UP ? — and he has to grit his teeth to stop a pained inhale from breaking the tense silence that has settled upon them. her frostbite was mild, but it took up a SUBSTANTIAL amount of skin, consuming most of her forearms, her abdomen, and her thighs ( FUCK , why did he look there? ) . he tries to look sympathetic, or, at least, he THINKS he does —— a grimace of pain causes his brows to furrow, white teeth showing from beneath chapped lips. it looks PAINFUL .
he tries to touch as little as possible of the damaged skin as he bends, tucks his right arm into the crook of her knees, and lifts; she’s like a FEATHER , as though he’s carrying nothing but CLOUDS in his mismatched arms. the servos in his left arm groan and shudder as he tenses up, discomfort written all over his face —— why couldn’t someone else, someone BETTER , be helping her? why should he be allowed to be privy to this poor girl’s SUFFERING ? still, as dutifully and as gently as a man with THE WINTER SOLDIER inside his head can manage, he carries her across the modestly-sized bathroom and kneels to gently deposit her in the lukewarm water. he eases her in slowly, arctic eyes carefully trained on her face to watch for signs of discomfort he knows is coming —— he’s been frostbitten enough to know that its best treatment is also one of the most PAINFUL .
His feeling of DISCOMFORT is one of which she mutually shared in earnest. The request of HELP had been necessary she deemed - but that FACT didn’t stop the butterflies from waking within her abdomen and causing a RIOT of nerves to wrack through her figure. They were STRANGERS still at best and while she TRUSTED he wouldn’t bring her any harm, it was hard to RELAX in such a situation. Eyes locked ONTO his movements and with her trained gaze, not one instance of his hesitation was lost on her. Her heart SWELLED with sudden grief for putting him into this place and it was as if the GUILT weighed NOT on the cold which caused this stint of FROSTBITE but on HER for not avoiding it before it SETTLED within her BONES. Quiet breathing became SHALLOW as the thin fabric fell from her shoulders to POOL around her ankles with almost SINFUL ease.
The silence POUNDS within her ear drums as chilled feet LEAVE the ground and Wanda wishes for NOTHING more than to have the power of invisibility instead. The embarrassment hangs thick within the air and wincing through the pain, she covers herself as best as she can - though it is THANKFULLY noted that his eyes are VERY MUCH so trained elsewhere. As the water grows NEARER, anticipation for both the relief and the pain become PAINFULLY obvious upon her features. But it isn’t until she’s LOWERED into the water does her body JOLT into action, despite any and ALL pain caused by the quick shift.
Once her legs become SUBMERGED within the tub, Wanda’s torso rotates to face him and she presses her chest against the radiating WARMTH of his own. Fingers DIG into the fabric of his shirt and without thinking, the young brunette buries her face into the crook of his neck with a HISSING pain escaping paled lips. Wounds of battle are suddenly NOTHING to her compared to this, and it takes everything she has not to cry out and BEG for him to stop.