#america chavez
alpal-pie · 2 days ago
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Young Avengers pool party!
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philtstone · 2 days ago
title: home again
happy birthday to my dearest friend zainab! sorry this is so late dude. pls accept 11k words about sam and bucky caring deeply abt each other. love u very much xxo
Summary: “I like running,” Bucky says, in that maddeningly noncommittal way with which he sometimes demonstrates deep and unwavering care. Sam refocuses with effort.
“Fine. Just – ditch the pants, will you?”
He watches eyes narrow and a nose scrunch in confusion. Bucky looks down. Seems to register all the unspoken meaning. Looks back up.
“Okay,” Sam repeats.
Maddening, but still enough to loosen a knot in Sam’s chest.
2023, June
Sam wakes up with the itch to pick a fight under his skin.
When he wanders out into the kitchen there is a ready pot of coffee and the TV playing on low in the background. This is technically unexpected – in Sam’s pissed-off, half-asleep state, it’s unexpected – because it is truly the ass end of dawn. The sky’s still like, indigo-y out there – out the window of Sarah’s house, which is his house too, only he’s been spending the last month or so getting all re-used to it.
From the kitchen, as he pours his coffee, he can see the old quilting on the couch and the two big bookshelves filling up the den. They always had books in their house growing up. It was a principle Sam’s father held. He used to say, now Sammy, and he’d always say it like that, most often when it was the two of them out on the P&D and Sarah was busy untangling the fishing line. Now Sammy, here’s something I’m gonna tell you. You don’t need to be no preacher nor philosophizer to let your good shine through. But you need to know why you stand where you stand. Otherwise, one day something’s gonna come along and challenge it, and it’s gonna scare you into bein’ something you’re not.
His father’s brother was in the Black Panthers. Sam remembers remnants of this from when he was really young – seven, maybe, or eight. There were meetings, at a rented room in the local public library, and they served tea, had people come and speak sometimes. Paul did not attend some meetings. He attended others. Leadership was a question that had arisen and then been dropped many times around over the course of that time period. We need leaders. We need leaders like Paul, who got a head on his shoulders and is good at talking. Sam was a kid but sharp enough to hear all these things. Ultimately those conversations never went anywhere Real, and Paul and Darlene stayed in their old house overlooking the water and fed those less fortunate than them and attended church on Sundays. 
For so much of his life, it was known implicitly to Sam that his father knew why he stood where he stood.
Now Sam stands in the same kitchen he and Dad and Sarah’d come back to after those fishing trips, and scrubs both hands over his eyes while his coffee goes cold. The itch to pick a fight is still simmering. He takes a sip of the coffee and scowls. It’s good, but not in a way that makes him feel better.
He wanders into the living room, holding the lukewarm mug.
[read more on ao3]
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webtrinsic1122 · 5 hours ago
My brain just imagines someone insinuating Stephen taking care of America is some burden and america brokenly replying that Stephen is her friend because she doesn’t want to think about herself as a burden and Stephen overhears and is pissed someone would dare try to undercut her meaning to him
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aparticularbandit · 10 hours ago
Finding Family: Part Five: Chapter Twenty
Summary: When America begins universe-hopping again to try and find her moms, she realizes that’s too much scope for her.  She looks for smaller scope, and instead she finds Wanda.
When Scarlet goes to sleep later, she expects that she will not dream, just as she hasn’t ever since using the Time Stone back at Kamar-Taj.  It’s been some time since she’d given the necklace to Ash, but her dreams haven’t returned yet.  A part of her thought – hoped, really – that they would never return at all.  She’s spent too much time dreaming of her boys, seeing the seemingly infinite other universes where a version of her, one who made the right decisions or just had the right circumstances, is still with them, and she is more than fine no longer having those dreams.  More, the only other dreams she can think of are ones where she is younger or where she’s almost the same as she is now – mourning for children she no longer has – or where she is as she was – desperately searching for a way to reunite with her family, to bring them back, to fix things.  No, it’s far, far better to have no dreams at all.
Unfortunately, that dreamless sleep does not continue.
Perhaps it is the loss of the Time Stone, the loss of whatever the multiverse decided interfered with her so much that she shouldn’t dream of other universes; perhaps it is simply encountering Agatha again, being around the woman who should be a source of her nightmares (and, in a sense, was, although she’s rarely appeared in them); or perhaps it is neither of these but something else entirely that prompts her mind to wander. Whatever it is, within moments of her head hitting the pillow, within an instant of her eyes closing, Scarlet begins to dream.
 Scarlet finds herself in what, at first, feels more like a memory than a window into another universe.  Westview is just as she created it to be – suburban homes with perfectly crafted lawns, flowers of every kind and color blooming in Dottie’s (only she wasn’t really Dottie; she was Sarah – she’d even stripped her name from her, although the person she is in the dream doesn’t seem to know that yet), everything picture perfect for the television screen.  She’s in that last outfit – the most comfortable of them all, if she’s honest, other than the blue plaid housecoat, which really says something about mental duress and comfort – and she hunches over, running down the sidewalk, not the middle of the street, half-hiding behind the white picket fences, not that it really helps.
There’s not much in Westview to cover her from a villain that can fly above everything else, but she tries.
Her gaze flickers across the horizon, sweeps the sky, and seeing nothing – no one – Scarlet gestures with one hand.  Her boys rush from the bushes where they’ve been hiding, eyes wide, mouths pressed shut. Even Tommy is so scared that he doesn’t say anything to her.  “It’s okay, boys.  We’re going to be fine.  You’re going to be fine.  Your dad’s keeping her distracted, so we’ll just—”
A loud booming sound from blocks behind them, and Scarlet whirls around to see a thick beam of golden yellow light shooting into the sky.  She catches a glimpse of a woman with dark hair and swirling purple-blue robes that flutter in the wind.  The beam looks like it hits her, but also looks like it goes straight through her, phasing through her without hurting her at all. The woman cackles, and it doesn’t matter how far away she is, the sound still carries to Scarlet where she stands with her boys.
“Mom,” Tommy asks, hesitant, forcing himself to focus on her and not turn away behind him, “what’s going to happen to us?  To Dad?”
Scarlet takes a deep breath.  “You’re going to be fine.  We’re going to get out, and you’re going to be fine.”
 Dreams aren’t always straightforward and logical.  There’s time missing here, the time it takes for Scarlet to get from where she was to where she is now, at the border of what should be the Hex, but the dream puts her there immediately.  She takes a step forward, and she is there, only there isn’t really a border that she can see.  Maybe Westview is different here.  Maybe there isn’t a Hex.
But no – there is – it’s just further away from her.  On the other side stand two women, one with dark curls who honestly looks like she should be the one in Westview, the one leading life through the decades because she already has, and the other a little more angular, with high cheekbones and blonde hair in corkscrew curls pulled back into a high ponytail.  The blonde keeps her eyes on the sky, while the brunette gestures to Scarlet and her boys.  “C’mon.  Dottie’s got a car waiting—”
“You’re going to let Dottie drive?” Scarlet interrupts, and her gaze sweeps incredulously to the blonde.  “She’s a maniac behind the wheel.”
“Which means she will take the risks needed to get us out of here.”  The brunette meets Scarlet’s eyes with her own deep brown ones.  “You can trust us, Wanda.  We’re not going to let you or your boys—”
But she doesn’t even finish speaking before a loud booming crash sounds far closer than it should, and Vision flies by overhead, hits the Hex’s barrier, and rebounds off of it back into Westview instead of flying through it. The witch’s cackling echoes around them. Scarlet can’t see her yet.  She knows what she wants.  Her lips press together, and she kneels down, placing a hand on each of her boys’ shoulders.  “Billy, Tommy, I need you to go with Dottie.  She’s going to make sure you’re okay, okay?”
“But Mom,” Billy cuts through, “what about you?  Aren’t you coming with us?”
As he’s speaking, the brunette pushes through the Hex’s barrier, pulling a shield emblazoned with the Union Jack in its center off of her back and putting it between her and the barrier itself, then pulling it up over her head like an umbrella, making an opening in the barrier for the boys to escape through. She gestures for them again. “Hurry, boys.  Your mom will be just fine.”
Scarlet leans forward and kisses Tommy’s forehead before he zooms off through the opening, next to Dottie’s side.  Then she kisses Billy’s forehead and cups his face with her hands, meeting his eyes.  “You make sure your brother stays safe, okay?  Your dad and I will find you once we get rid of this witch.”
Billy nods.  Then he wraps his arms around Scarlet and buries his head in her chest.  “I love you, Mom.”
“I know.”  Scarlet kisses the top of his head.  “Now go.  We’ll find you when we get out.”
Billy slowly pulls himself away from her and runs through the opening, joining Tommy with Dottie.  As soon as they’re both through, the brunette steps inside the Hex’s barrier, pulling the shield in front of her.  Scarlet’s eyes widen.  “Peggy, you’re supposed to—”
“We’re Avengers, love,” Peggy interrupts before Scarlet can finish. “You and Vision might be able to take this—”  She glances behind her, where Dottie is quickly leading the twins away from them, and she continues in a hush, apparently hoping that the boys won’t hear her, “—bitch on your own, but we’re a team.  We help each other out.”  She looks up to the sky with a grim smile.  “Three on one?  We’ll take this witch out in no time.”
Scarlet nods, just as grim as Peggy is next to her, and she stretches her hands out to either side, forming orbs of chaos magic in each.  “I sure hope so, Peggy.  I don’t want to know what will happen if we don’t.”
 As Scarlet flings an orb at the woman hovering in the sky above them, as she rolls to one side to dodge the black violet one shooting her way, the dream shifts again.  She’s no longer rolling, she no longer has the ability to roll.  Her skin is that same mottled, rotten, husk of grey, black spreading out from her fingertips and stretching up her palms, twisting around her arms, that it had been when this witch tried to absorb her power so long ago – when she had absorbed some of it – only this time it’s spread further, past her elbows, around her shoulders, encircling her neck so that she can barely breathe.  It’s hard to see.  When she tries to take a step forward, she stumbles, and when she places one hand on the ground to steady herself, the weight of her body crumples her hand into ash, the same as it would any corpse.
It should hurt.  It doesn’t hurt.  Scarlet cries out anyway and, unable to keep herself from falling further, lands on arms that cannot hold her up, that cannot bear the weight of someone falling on them, even if that person is herself.  Her other hand crumples into ash just the same as the first did, and bits of her arms crumple, bits flake off, the bones remain, but they’re porous.  They won’t last long like this – and since they remain, she can feel the parts of her arms that snap off.  This time, the cry as she rolls onto her back is less from shock and disbelief and more pain, pain such as she’s never felt before, spiraling up her arms, so much that even though she’s already having trouble breathing, this makes it worse.  She can’t get a breath in.  She can’t—
Agatha – she lets herself think the name now, knowing that even thinking it can call the witch to her, not that it matters now – lands next to her and presses one foot on Scarlet’s neck.  She grins, smug but somehow still somber, as Scarlet coughs, desperate to breathe.  “I told you, toots.”  She leans down, one hand out, and rips scarlet magic out from Scarlet’s head, bleeding from the corners of her eyes, with the barest flick of her fingers. “Scarlet Witch or not, you never stood a chance against me.”
Scarlet’s eyes blaze scarlet for an instant before they, too, begin to fade.  The last things she sees are Agatha’s own eyes, both violet with her power, one slowly overwhelmed with the scarlet she drains from her.
 Scarlet sits bolt upright in her bed, breathing heavily.  Sweat soaks her bedsheets from where it has covered her, and as she sits still, trying to calm herself, she can’t even tell herself that it’s only a dream.  Dreams, even nightmares, are windows into the multiverse.  It might be her mind taking a memory and contorting it beyond all control, but it might just as well be—
She swallows, hard.  It might be another universe, but that’s just it.  It’s another universe.  It isn’t here. That should help.  But with the witch from her nightmares in a room tucked away in another corner of the house, closer than she ever wanted her to be again, she can’t help but shiver.
It’s okay, Scarlet tells herself.  Ash knows a way to fix this. She’ll fix it.  Then I won’t ever have to worry about Agatha Harkness again.
That’s what she tries to comfort herself with as she lays back down in her bed, but it doesn’t matter how much she thinks it, she can’t get herself back to sleep.  Instead, she pulls out the book she stole from Kamar-Taj and begins to read again.  Studying an old, dusty textbook might not be fun or exciting, but at least it’s a distraction from that dream, and that’s what she needs right now.
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saintlopezlov3r · 15 hours ago
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America Chavez⭐️
Marvel Comics
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the-woman-upstairs · a day ago
Wong, sighing, as he notices all the similarities between Stephen and America:
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womensedits · a day ago
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just like if you use or save
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1rsoldiersince2012 · 2 days ago
Rough Path to Memory Square (Doctor Strange x Reader [Earth-838])
Words: 5376  (chapters 4-6)
You - Earth-838 Sorcerer Supreme's apprentice, now living under Mordo's wing, which you don't like.
Former Supreme Strange's lover and a gifted sorceress, drowning in her own despair, still not over Strange's death.
What happens when two intruders - America Chavez and Stephen Strange, visit your universe? Will you help them? Will you manage to convince the Illuminati that Stephen is not the real threat, but dream walking Wanda is?
Will your own feeling get in the way? Will you open your heart for Doctor Strange again?
Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad under the same name <3  
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012
wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012
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Chapter 4: What’s in that Tea?
"Our Stephen fell. He used the Darkhold. He believed he was strong enough to resist its power. And he was. At first." you fall silent, taking a deep breath before words flow from your mouth again. Stephen and America's eyes never leave your form. You pour the hot tea into cups and sit down before your guests. Mordo said only a couple of words and left for a quick meeting. Now you had a chance to tell them the whole truth about your universe.
"One time he came back acting strangely, I immediately felt that something was wrong. Maybe he got into a fight with Peggy again, I thought. They never really liked each other, but he always managed to hold himself from snarky comments around her." You let out a humorless laugh. "He was a bit annoyed, clutched a book to his chest. I asked him what was wrong, but he just waved his hand. The whole two days he didn't leave his chamber, and I was beginning to get worried, but you know, when Stephen wants something, Stephen gets it, no matter the cost." You play with the loose ends of your belt, trying to distract yourself from the fiery look in Stephen's eyes.
"He used the Darkhold?" Strange asks, getting a bit impatient by your story, although he had to admit, you had the storytelling skills.
"Yes. It was the first time he used it. Two days later he left his room, acted like nothing special happened but told me the truth anyway. He was always honest with me, a trait I respected the most. Of course, I was the last one to learn the truth, the Illuminati knew about it all along." you sign. "He said that the book didn't affect him in any way, but his fingertips had that black color, as if he had smeared soot on them. After his first encounter with the Darkhold, he ordered Mordo to lock the book in the back chamber and put on some protection spells. The decision was highly respected by the Illuminati, although the look on Charles's face said that he knows more than we do." You take a sip of the hot tea and admire the set of cups that you got as a gift.
"You know, he bought those for me when we were on vacation. Our first trip to Europe together, lasted 3 days, but the duty of the Earth's best protector doesn't wait till you get back from your trip. Stephen was normal again, the usual level of arrogance and teasing always present. But then we got a call from Reed. He said that there is a great danger, and we need to get back to New York, and try to find the best solution on how to prevent the destruction of the world." your smile falls as you say the next word, "Thanos."
America looks at you confused, but Strange's eyes harden at the mention of the titan.
"Did he snap?" he asks, genuinely interested in how things went down the hill in your universe.
"No." Although in the farthest corner of your heart, you wish he did snap. Maybe then your Strange would be still here with you. "He didn't get all the stones. Stephen had found a solution before the worst happened. But it already did happen, right before the final battle." You take another big gulp of the tea, soothing your throat from all the talking, and continue.
"After learning of Thanos' invasion of Earth, Strange. Uh. He used the Darkhold to search through the multiverse for a possible solution. He found one way to 'travel the multiverse' but that way had a cost. Furthermore, he started dreamwalking. Lighting up hundreds of candles in the Sanctum, performing the difficult spell, he wanted me to watch him. To be near with him. He said that he felt safe when he felt my presence. At first dreamwalking went great, he possessed a body of a Strange in another universe, he searched for a solution and then came back. More and more nights I spent looking at his ritual, but each time he failed to find a solution, and each time he came back into his body more frustrated. He barely talked with Mordo, or anyone else, just looked at me with somewhat dead eyes and went to sleep. However, one problem is not a problem. There was a conflict, which was caused by dreamwalking, and this triggered an incursion between two realities, destroying one of them. As you can see, not ours."
Stephen let out a breath he was holding while you talked. "How did you get the Darkhold? Did the other, other me found a solution in it? How did you beat Thanos?"
"Wanda gave it to us. She said she was happy with her life, although her husband died, she found happiness in being a mother." you smile. "A real sweetheart, we used to be somewhat of friends, but when her boys grew up a bit, she found less time to hang out with us."
Stephen raised an eyebrow at the last part, waiting for your explanation.
"Yeah, we, well me and Stephen, used to maintain contacts with the most powerful magic users on Earth and Wanda was one of them. She gave the book to us, Stephen specifically, and asked to hide it, to lock it and never let it see the sunlight. But desperate times call for desperate solutions. During the final battle, we used the Book of Vishanti, however. Stephen never found a solution in the Darkhold, only suffering and despair."
"So you have the Book of Vishanti here?" Stephen asks expectantly, leaning in his chair towards you.
"Well, not exactly here HERE, but I know-"
"You know what y/n?" Mordo asks loudly, emerging from the shadows of the doorway, finally interrupting your tale.
"I know that it's time for more tea. I may leave you with the Master for a few moments." you put your head down, bowing to Mordo. Fucking traditions. On your way to the kitchen, someone grabs your hand, and you almost drop the cups as strong hands grip your shoulders. It's Strange.
"I have no clue about half the things you just told us, but please, y/n, you have to help us. You have to help me save that girl, please" he's so close to you that you can hear his erratic breathing. Your heart beats loudly in your ears.
"I'm trying to help you, but my hands are a bit tied here. He doesn't trust you, none of them do." you whisper-shout, trying not to give in into his intoxicating smell.
"Wanda might begin dreamwalking, y/n, if she comes here, we're all doomed, I need the book now" he pleads, searching for a solution in your eyes.
"I'll help you, but I don't know his plan. I think he wants you to meet the Illuminati, and they will decide what to do with you. Every moment you spend here, we are in danger of incursion. You're not supposed to be here. And every moment you spend talking to me, Mordo gets more suspicious." you begin to worry about his and your own heads, but he touches your cheek. You're at a loss for words, and this closeness drives you over the edge. Giving into your impulses, you grab Stephen by the collar of his robes and kiss him. His lips taste the same, only now the sharp beard is scratching your chin. Weirdly, he doesn't stop you, only deepens the kiss by licking your lower lip, and you gladly accept his tongue into your mouth. After a moment, he pulls away and looks at you with a face that you can't understand.
Still breathing pretty heavily, you whisper, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, it was so inappropriate. Fuck, I'm an idiot." with teary eyes, you turn to go away, but his words make you stop in your tracks.
"There's nothing wrong with love, y/n." he sighs. The day has been extremely exhausting, and somehow that kiss woke him up from his slumber and gave a sparkle of hope.
"Stephen Strange?" Mordo's voice calls out from another room.
"Shit, I have to go." Stephen sighs and turns on his heel, Cloak of Levitation floating on his shoulders funnily. "I told him I have to use the bathroom" he smiles at you.
A tear falls down your cheek and a wet spot appears on your chest. "I'll try to do everything I can to save you. I can't let another Stephen die." you try to smile back, but your lip only quivers.
"I knew I could trust you" his words echo in your head as he leaves the kitchen and comes back to Mordo and America.
You quickly boil more tea and dry your face with the sleeve of the robes. But what you see when you return to the main room makes the tray and cups fall down loudly. Fragments of the cups that you loved the most, the cups that Stephen gifted to you, were broken. Just like your trust for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry y/n, but I had to do it. They want to meet him. Then we'll decide their fate." Mordo says, looking at you. But your eyes are on the girl laying in a weird position in the chair and Strange sprawled on the floor.
"Oh lord..." you murmur, already knowing that things are going down the hill from now on.
Chapter 5: Give me all your Lovin’
He’s been eyeing you throughout the whole ceremony. Eyes piercing right through your soul and astral form. It was his decision for you to stand at the front. Stealing innocent glances now and then, often licking his lips, but you knew – it was just a game, his lips didn’t get dry THAT fast. Smiling to yourself you lower your head so that Mordo wouldn’t notice your smile.
He and Strange looked like best friends for everyone else standing here with you. But you knew that secretly they were competing. All the time. Since Strange came to Kamar-Taj all broken and in desperate need for guidance. Ancient One gladly accepted him, taught him everything he knew (I’m using the comics here) let him into the world with a bag of knowledge and the fate of the universe on his shoulders. Of course, Mordo felt hurt when he didn’t get the spot as the Sorcerer Supreme, so he decided to become friends with Strange. That fucking honour-hungry pig.
You roll your eyes and in the corner of your vision you notice Mordo standing all proud and smiling. You have to admit, your training has been going well, the newly applied tactics were actually working. Strange thanked Mordo for the ‘wonderful idea’ and admitted that ‘without my dear friend it wouldn’t have been possible’. You clap automatically, along with every other student, all dressed in the same grey robes. Mordo takes ‘the stage’ and starts talking, glancing once in a while in your direction. Strange also looks at you. He’s sitting on a chair, legs spread in a manly, a bit dominant way. He pretends to play with the end of his robes, trying to hide any suspicions towards him. You turn around and survey the crowd – eyes bright and yearning for knowledge, all glued to the man on the top step of the staircase. You steal a glace at Stephen, of course, he’s already looking at you. You can’t fucking wait until this shitshow ends. Maintaining a perfect posture is hard and the back of your neck hurts. A bath, hot bath is all you need now. Not a long ass speech about how Mordo woke up one morning and felt enlightenment.
He’s been trying to romance you. Many, many times. Perhaps he felt like this was a competition between him and Strange, when the latter took an interest in you. Talks in the yard in the late evening, permissions to use more advanced books, right from the Sorcerer Supreme’s collection, and repeatedly occurring taps on your shoulder. Mordo picked up on a subtle hints as well, and tried to sway you to his side – tea, which was ‘personally made by him from the best tea leaves in the world’, sweets and chocolates on your bed, books that had nothing to do with sorcery and he picked those for his best student when he was away, on an important business trip. You did nothing about it. Weirdly enough, the attention from two men was pleasing and welcomed, but Mordo gave up as he saw a little scene in the courtyard recently, when Strange kissed your cheek. Nothing romantical, he was just grateful when you helped him find the spell that he was looking for the whole week. The gifts and sweets stopped; tea breaks became only a rare, professional occasion. You and Strange, on the other hand, began meeting more often. Portals open to New York, breakfast in cafes, late night visits to your chamber. Couple of hook-ups here and there, and you were falling for the ex-surgeon faster than failing student’s math grades.
“Thank you, my friends for everything, only you made it work, thank you” Mordo says humbled and bows to the crowd before him. Stephen stands up and joins in the applause. Mordo disappears somewhere inside, and everyone falls into chatter, slowly moving towards their rooms. You linger, waiting for certain someone to approach you. Stephen, passing by, a serious look on his face, slips a note into your hand and disappears in the sea of grey.
‘5 minutes, your room’ the note says and as you read it, the text burns out and disappears. You look around to make sure no one saw the encounter and speed a bit towards you room. As you reach it, and sit down on your bed, ready to take these uncomfortable boots off, two quick knocks on your door signal that your five minutes are over. You jump and hurry to open the doors and see Stephen standing with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He checks if no one saw him come here and locks the door behind him.
“What pleasure do I owe the Master of the Mystic Arts now?” you ask teasingly.
“Big one, y/n, really big one” a moment of silence is broken by the mix of your laughs.
“I was planning to call it a night early, I’m dog tired” you say as you walk to the window and close the blinds. With one snap of his fingers, Strange lights up 2 candles on your table.
“I wanted to congratulate you, y/n.” Your head turns to him, he has your full attention now. “On surviving Mordo’s big challenge training lessons” he laughs and pulls a rose from behind of his back.
“Aw, you really shouldn’t have, anyone can survive that shit” you step closer and take the rose from him, admiring its beauty. Although created with magic, the flower still makes your heart swell at the man who looks so out of place in your small room.
You put the rose on your book table and stretch your hand out to the sorcerer. He takes it and with one swift movement you’re standing chest to chest, both heavily breathing all of a sudden. His hand touches your cheek – scarred, rough hands colliding with your soft skin, the contact sends electricity through your body. Without waiting for anything, he pulls you into a kiss. It’s rough, passionate, and breath-taking, he’s always expressing his emotions through actions rather than words. A sigh, more like a suppressed moan, escapes your lips and he pulls away, filling his lungs with oxygen, feeling a strong pressure in his pant already.
“Oh, what’s that for?” you breath out. He only pulls you against his chest again and says nothing, lips already on your neck. You shiver, neck has always been your sweet spot and Stephen manages to hit it with a calculated precision. Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging at the roots and finally getting a low grunt from the man. Your lower half is busy with slowly but confidently rubbing his legs, avoiding the prize at all costs, he’s doing the same, only his knee is trying to break the defence wall of your knees. Your hands reach the back of his neck, rubbing and massaging the tense spot. He bites your neck, and you exclaim silently, “hey, watch it, gonna leave a mark”.
“Shuuush” he drags out the world as his tongue licks your neck up till your jawline. The action is so dirty that your legs turn to jelly and the only reason you’re still standing is because your hands are tightly holding onto his waist. He notices that and takes the hint that it’s finally time to lay down into a more comfortable position. In a blink of the eye, you’re laying on your bed, Stephen on you, hands on both sides of your head, his knee finally in between your legs, which you spread widely, welcoming him. Strange looks at the action and smirks, bringing his hips to yours. The move is so quick and unexpected that a loud moan escapes your lips. His crotch begins rubbing your pussy through the thick material of both your pants. He grunts again and you pull him into another kiss, moving your hips to match the rhythm of his, your hands wander on his back, pulling him even closer, and slowly trying to get him out of his clothes. Unsuccessful and frustrated you pull away from the kiss.
“Fuck, it’s so hot in here” you heavily breath out and look at the man above you – hair all messed up, swollen lips and red tinted cheeks. “Come on, take off your clothes.” You sit up, Strange does as he’s told, getting rid of his robes and now taking off his belt. Your hand stops him mid-action, “pants on, mister” you order, and with a boyish grin he obeys. You look at his toned bare chest, fingers automatically touching him from the waist to his neck and back, stopping on his belt.
He waits for nothing and hurriedly takes off your robes, dropping them somewhere on the floor. His hungry eyes look at your breasts, sitting all nicely in that pretty blood-red bra. Hands, desperate for contact, touch your boobs, and soon he’s leaving kisses on your chest, kissing through the material, pulling edges of your bra with his teeth. You can’t take the ache that’s building between your legs anymore and push him away, swiftly changing positions, so that now you’re on top of him, slowly rubbing your aching cores together. He likes when you’re on top, he can see how you roll your hips shamelessly, begging for more contact with your actions, because words are never enough.
You kiss him hungrily, forgetting everything in the world, until a knock on your door startles you both. You sit on Stephen's legs, he sits up on his bed, pulling you close to him, as if he wants to cover your nakedness from the unexpected guest.
"Y/n?" Mordo calls from behind the door. You and Stephen roll your eyes simultaneously and he shows you only with his eyes, that you should say something and get rid of him as soon as possible.
"Yes, Karl?" you coo, trying to calm your breathing down to seem as normal and as sleepy as possible.
"I'm sorry to bother you at such late hour, but have you seen Stephen somewhere?" you and Strange both look at each other with panicked looks and he nudges you to say something.
"Strange? Oh, no. Haven't seen him since the ceremony. Did something happen?" you try to sound worried but Stephen's hands slowly started tickling your sides. You roll your hips on his crotch as a revenge move, he stuffes a moan. Two can play that game.
"Oh, no, no, don't worry, I just wanted to find him before I went to sleep to say that we have an important meeting tomorrow early in the morning. I just thought that you saw him wandering somewhere on the grounds here, but I'll check New York Sanctum just in case." Mordo calls back and you wait for him to say more, which he eventually does, "Thank you, good night, y/n."
"Good night, Karl. I hope your meeting goes well."
"Is he gone?" Strange asks in a whisper.
"I think so" you answer, not letting your eyes down from the doors.
A minute or two pass by in a mystic silence that always surrounded the place. Relief washes over you and Strange puts his hands on your butt, pushing you even closer to him and says, "come on baby, give me all your lovin' now. "
You raise an eyebrow and say in a singing manner "ZZ Top, Eliminator, 1983"
"Ooh, someone did their homework tonight" he laughs and kisses a space between your boobs. Soon his hungry lips reach your niples, biting and sucking, never giving you a break, almost driving you over the edge right there and right now. You can't take it any longer, your panties are so wet, it probably leaked through the pants.
"Stephen, please, I want you inside." you moan as silently as possible, God knows who might be passing by your room.
"I can't say no now, can I?" he tries to sound serious but the lust in his eyes give away all his plans.
"You can always say no, but Master, I'm afraid that you don't want to." you push him on the hard mattress - comfort was never really appreciated in Mystic Arts. With one swift move of the hand, Stephen makes both your pants dissappear into thin air, you breath out heavily as the cold gust makes contact with your heated lower half. He waits for nothing - kisses you rather roughly, and as his mouth is busy, his hands are occupied as well - rubbing your clit slowly, teasing your entrance with the middle finger. The kiss stuffles your moans but the little whimpers still manage to get out. He moans into your mouth too - the low voice rumbles through his chest into yours - erotic and dirty - exactly how you like it; exactly how Stephen likes it.
After this unbearable teasing and playing he finally obeys to your wish that was expressed minutes, or maybe hours, earlier. With Stephen under you, it's easy to get lost in time. His cock slides right into you and you both moan out loud at the feeling. You swear that you saw stars for a moment, but Strange's quick pace brings you back to Earth and back to this moment. As you move up and down, your breasts jump quite uncomfortably so you take his hands, the hands he's so insecure about, and put on your boobs. The light squeezing sends a shockwave to your core and you almost cum right away. The way your pussy clenches his cock, he knows that you're not gonna last long. But neither is he.
In a blink of an eye, Strange switches places with you - he's on top, quickening the pace and holding a hand over your mouth to silence your dirty dirty moans - they are for his ears only.
"Shit, y/n, I'm so close" he breaths out in a restrained voice, taking his hand off your mouth and resting it beside your head.
"Me too, keep going, keep going, baby" a moan escapes your lips, you don't fucking care anymore who might hear you, the pleasure is clouding your mind once again.
The room feels hot. Candles on your table are burning out.The slight squeaking of your bed, the slaps of your hips when he goes into you balls deep and the synchronized pants fill the small space.
You give in to the pleasure. The orgasm overtakes your body, convulsing under the body of your lover. Your moan is stuck somewhere in your throat, now only the oxygen is what you want to get. Stephen's hands squeezing yours is what brings you back from your delirious state - he's close. Fingers interlocked with yours, he's putting his whole weight on your palms now, and a moment later he lets out the sexiest grunt you've ever heard from a man. His hot seed spills into you, making you close your eyes and savour this moment.
He collapses on the bed, so close to you, his fingers still squeezing yours, knuckles a light shade of white. You both catch your breaths, clear thoughts finally returning to your head.
He turns onto the side and looks at you. Hair messy, little drops of sweat on glistening your forehead in the faint cande light, eyes half closed, but ready for anything unexpected. You were the most beautiful woman to him right now. His pointer finger slowly traces circles on your chest and you murmur to him, the words are so silent that if he wasn't paying attention, he probably thought it was his imagination.
"You're staying?"
He's silent. You open your eyes and take a good look at him. He want to say, to scream even, 'yes, of course, I'm never leaving', but different words leave his mouth, "You know I can't." His thumb caresses your chin and he leans in for one last kiss - a good night's kiss. You don't pull away for as long as you can, but all good things must come to an end.
In a blink of your eye, he's dressed up again, 'business' look on his face, but the disguise is ruined as he slips out the door and closes it. A moment later, an air kiss is sent your way through the gap of the door and he winks at you, still laying naked on the covers of your bed.
"Fuck his morning meeting." you whisper to no one in particular and get up to the shower. No doubt, you're gonna sleep well tonight.
Chapter 6: Feeling like a Fish in a Bowl
"Hey. Hey! This universe sucks!" America shouts, punching the glass cage. You've been keeping her company since she woke up. Strange was still knocked out on the floor in another glass cage.
"You're sure you can't get us out?" America pleads, but you just sigh in defeat.
"No... It's magic-proof or something like that. Plus, there are cameras literally everywhere." Workers in lab coats swarm around, almost knocking your chair. "Hey! Watch it!"
Just as you grab a pen from a nearby table, ready to throw it at the rude man, Strange groans and starts waking up. You quickly stand up and watch him get up.
With a sharp turn, he sees that the Cloak of Levitation is missing and slightly panics.
" They're fixing it." you say loudly. Strange looks at you confused, but an angry look overtakes his features almost immediately.
"They're fixing it. The Cloak. And before you try to blame me for anything, I didn't know." you say, eyes fixed on the ground, leaning on America's cage slightly.
"She's not lying. Y/n has been here since I woke up" America says, adding the last part in a smaller voice, "trying to cheer me up."
"Yeah? Well, I don't know exactly who we can trust now, because as it seems, in every step there's a person trying to kill us. Maybe she's here to spy on you, don't you think, America?" Strange is angry, but you already had experience on how to tame an angry sorcerer.
"First of all, I've been trying to get you out, but it's beyond my power here. Secondly, they  wanted to kick me out of here like 3 times, but I threatened to send them to the highest place on Everest, if they even lay a finger on Miss Chavez."
Finally, at the loss of words, Stephen shuts up. A redhead enters the room, and you roll your eyes.
"Hey, labcoat! Let us go." Strange shouts, directing his anger at another victim. The redhead turns to look at him, and Stephen is at a loss for words. AGAIN.
"Hello, Stephen." Christine tells. "Miss Chavez, Y/n." she slightly nods her head, and you grip the edge of the concrete.
"Hi, Christine." you say, not exactly trying to put on a fake politeness mask.
Strange looks like he saw a ghost, and you hear America sigh loudly besides you. "Ay, Dios..."
"Miss Chavez, you're in a highly secure research facility. The two of you, along with your sentient cloak, are here for surveillance and testing." Christine goes straight to business, like she always does.
"I'm sorry. Testing?" Strange asks, now standing so close to the glass, and you feel that if it suddenly disappeared, he'd fall face flat on the ground.
"Well, yes. You are visitors from another universe. Your magnetic signatures could be radioactive. You may be carrying diseases we just don't have treatments for. Hence, these amazing polycarbonate fishbowls." as much as you want to leave and not care about this whole thing, you can't. For the sake of your own, Stephen. He would've done the same. Although there's no use from you just sitting here and waiting for the grand meeting, you know that your presence calms America.
"Right. So, I have you to thank for these, then." he turns his handcuffs towards Christine.
"Yes, I developed those using the Sands of Nisanti. One of Stephen's magical relics." You clear your throat loudly, reminding those two chatterboxes about your presence.
"Stephen. Is that some kinda cyborg me?" Strange asks, eyeing you and Christine.
"You really think I would sleep with a robot?" you huff a humorless laugh. Everyone raises an eyebrow, and you feel your face getting a bit redder.
Christine continues, nonetheless, "Our universe is 838. And we've designated yours 616."
"Oh. You guys sure must know a lot about the Multiverse. You got someone going around naming realities." Strange calls.
"Yes. Me. My senior phoned the Baxter Foundation, and I specialize in Multiversal research. I volunteered. At your funeral." Christine answers. The atmosphere gets awkward really fast.
"Thank you for going." Stephen says, a bit confused and somewhat pleased. He steals a glance at you and sees a big tear threatening to escape your eye. He sees a woman he loved his whole life, or her variant, and a woman who loved him, a woman who years later is still ready to stand up for him at any given moment.
Christine talks about something else, but you don't listen. An image from the funeral stands before your eyes, as if you used the Time Stone to go back in time. Everyone's dressed in black, solemn faces, that much you managed to see through your blurry eyes. A lot of hands touching your shoulder, saying something, but none of the things make sense. You're clutching your bandaged stomach and... Stephen's voice pulls you out of your oppressive thoughts.
"What were we to each other in this universe?" you can't believe he's asking Christine this question right now.
"We never quite figured that out." she answers, waiting for your reaction, but you just look away, picking at your black nails. In the corner of your eye, you see Mordo coming your way. Whatever relationship, or lack of it, Strange is solving, you don't care anymore. Shooting from your seat, you quickly walk away towards the Sorcerer Supreme.
"Y/n, I see you're still here. Not tired of wasting your time with these criminals?"
"What are you gonna do?" you stand so close to him and see how his eyes shift from serious to somewhat soft. Although, your plan was to intimidate him.
"Go to the main hall and wait. They're letting you in only because Reed asked for your presence in the questioning." Mordo says and immediately leaves you standing frustrated and humiliated.
"Ugh, I swear I will punch him in the face" you storm out of the laboratory to the main hall, feeling America's eyes on the back of your head.
There's one thing you have to do, in case Wanda really dreamwalks into your universe.
Whatever it takes to protect your home.
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queen-rainy-love · 2 days ago
(PART 5) Not before they could vote to execute the Trio (Strange, Knight, Princess), Carter, Black Bolt, Rambeau and Richards leave to respond to the attack, but Maximoff easily kills them. Mordo votes to kill Strange himself, who tricks him into destroying their restraints before escaping with Princess & Knight Cookie. The Illuminati's efforts have also bought the Heroes enough time to free themselves (Tails uses Miles Electric to Hack into the Mainframe to free Sonic & Himself while Palmer did the Same thing, except Chavez been able to Punch the cage with her strength), Tails told Sonic to look for the Illumianti if they alright as the Trio escapes. Sonic arrives to see the illuminati, but they got killed by the Scarlet Witch and Sonic says "She's way worse then Dr. Eggman... Or Baldy McNoseHair to be exact". As Sonic returns to them, Carter stops him as she uses her last breath to give Sonic a shield to protect others, Sonic says thank you to her as he went to the sewers, where they rendezvous with Princess, Knight, & Strange. Maximoff continues to pursue them into the Gap Junction, where Princess Cookie saw a Keyblade from Kingdom Hearts as she retrives it while Strange retrieves the Book of Vishanti. However, Not Before Princess & Knight Cookie show off their new weapons, Maximoff quickly overwhelms the duo, destroys the Book of Vishanti, and takes control of Chavez, using her to send the Heroes and Palmer into another universe. She takes Chavez back to Earth-616, abandoning her alternate self who returns home to Westview. Maximoff then prepares a ritual to take her powers.
*Doctor Strange, Knight, and Princess stood before the Illuminati, afraid of what they would decide. Princess held Knight's hand as best as she could while still staring at the 838 heroes. Just as they were about to come to a decision, the alarms went off. The Illuminati looked at each other before Carter, Black Bolt, Rambeau, and Richards left to check it out. Princess was about to ask but Xavier told her not to worry before turning to Mordo.*
Xavier: *looks at the trio* Should any of you three manage to escape this chamber, you must guide America Chavez.
Mordo: What the hell are you saying?
Xavier: Save the girl and get to The Book of Vishanti.
Princess: It's here? The book?
Xavier: Yes, Our Doctor Strange built a waypoint.
Mordo: Charles, we cannot trust them.
Xavier: I believe we can. Just because someone stumbles and loses their way doesn't mean that they're lost forever. We will see what kind of Doctor Strange you are and what friends Your Highnesses are.
*Meanwhile Christine is trying to get everyone out while the Illuminati are trying to slow Wanda down. Tails notice the wires underneath the small cell vents and quickly starts doing his thing. It wasn't long until his cell door opens. He dashes out and quickly helps Christine override the cell doors.*
Christine: Very impressive. How did you figure it out?
Tails: The wiring needs to be hidden in a better spot. Maybe a layer of protection should-
Sonic: I don't want to interrupt this bonding moment between scientists but we have a crazy body snatching witch trying to get us!!!
Tails: Right! Sorry!
*Back to the trio, Xavier had left the room. The building shook a bit. Knight knew what was happening.*
Knight: (He's not coming back...any of them are!) *Turns to Mordo* Mordo! Let us go!! America is in danger!! We have to get her out of here!!
Mordo: The council will be back! And none of you are in any position to give orders. Once they've returned, my vote will remain unchanged.
*Another rumble shakes the building*
Doctor Strange: They're not coming back. And you cast your vote to kill your friends. *turns his back and remembered something* Not that that ever bothered you before. You know, you hated me where I came from.
Knight: *whispers* What is he doing?
Doctor Strange: And I bet secretly, my brother, you hated me here! You must've been so jealous. Do you know what? I bet you were thrilled when you heard I'd been corrupted. Hell, you probably gave me the Darkhold to begin with...
Princess: Doctor Strange-
Mordo: You know nothing of this universe!
Doctor Strange: I know that killing Stephen Strange was your ticket to getting the Sanctum, to becoming Sorcerer Supreme, and to joining your little circus of clowns, the Illuminati.
Mordo: *shouting* I'm ready...*draws his blade* to cast my vote now.
*Mordo lunges at Strange, only for him to dodge. Princess and Knight step back, unsure what to do. However, Princess noticed how Doctor Strange was allowing Mordo to hit his handcuffs with his sword.*
Doctor Strange: Piper! Micah! Jump in anytime!
*The two do and help Doctor Strange. However, Mordo was still able to overpower all three and throw them to the wall. This did open Doctor Strange and Knight's handcuffs a bit. Looking at each other, they nodded and wait until Mordo got close enough. Once he did both the heroes clasp shut the empty part of the handcuffs on each of Mordo's wrists and continued fighting. Even when they fell into the pit between the Illuminati's chairs and trial floor, all three still fought. Thankfully, it did end as both Doctor Strange and Knight, with Princess's help, escaped the pit, leaving Mordo down there cursing at them.*
*Back to Tails, Sonic, America, and Christine, the four are trying to open the last two cells. Tails was able to override Sonic (barely) but struggled with America's. The young fox was about to tell his blue friend to check on the Illuminati, Wanda stepped out of the dust, covered in oil.*
Sonic: I don't think the Illuminati is going to help us. *starts spin dashing America's cell.*
*Christine and Tails help Sonic to break the cell but nothing is happening. As Wanda got closer, the panic the four felt grows, and America, wanting to help her friends, punch the glass. This causes it to break into a star shape, shocking everyone. But it was short-lived. Wanda was only a few feet away from the group. Sonic was about spin dash her when Xavier entered the room. He used his powers to stop her, allowing the four enough time to escape. Once they were able to get America out of her cell, the four ran down the hallway and met back up with Doctor Strange, Princess, and Knight (and fixed-up cloak). Then Christine released the handcuffs and guided them to the gateway. As they ran down, Wanda chased after them, destroying everything in her way. Just when Wanda caught up to them, Doctor Strange collapsed the tunnel and flooded it.*
America: Did that kill her?
Doctor Strange: No, only bought us some time.
*The group got to the last door, opening it with Stephen's watch. They entered the Gap Junction and were about to use the Book of Vishanti when Wanda captured America and destroyed the book. And before any of the heroes could do anything, Wanda took control of America's powers and sent the heroes through the portal.*
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casual-young-avengers-au · 3 days ago
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“I’m miss America”
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maryo274 · 3 days ago
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"I'm glad I fell into your universe."
For the fifth and second to last character we have our multiversal traveler and new apprentice in Kamar Taj, America Chavez, who recently made her debut in Dr Strange in the Multiverse of Madness.
Kudos to Xochitl Gomez for her great interpretation of this new generation heroine, can't wait to see more of her in the future.
One more to go so please be patient, I'll post it sometime this week before Spider-Man for PC releases. 
Hope you like it. ⭐✌🏼😊
Marvel Studios ©
Art by Maryo274 ©
If you like my art support with a reblog, it is appreciated. And you’re always welcome to comment too. 
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webtrinsic1122 · a day ago
Bro when Pizza Papa grabs the Cloak of Levitation you literally can see America’s eyes go from the guy, to where he’s gripping, then directly to Stephen to see how he’s gonna react. I love it
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aparticularbandit · a day ago
Finding Family: Part Five: Chapter Nineteen
Summary: When America begins universe-hopping again to try and find her moms, she realizes that’s too much scope for her.  She looks for smaller scope, and instead she finds Wanda.
What happens to Agnes?
Scarlet can’t get the question out of her mind as she slams the door to Agatha’s suite behind her.  Ash’s spell worked just the way it was supposed to, stripping Agatha of the spell that kept her locked in her own mind and likely maintaining the one that kept her from using her own magic.  It had been a simple spell, anyway.  Two runes.  Scarlet had been able to do it within a few hours of learning it, memorizing the runes and marking them into the Hex’s barrier in the sky while fighting off the witch who is currently locked in that suite.  If she could do it under all that pressure, then Ash, with much less pressure and much more training, must have done just fine.  Besides, if Agatha had regained her magic at the same time that she regained her body, nothing would have kept her from attacking Scarlet again.  Nothing. Scarlet knows that.  She’s absolutely certain of it.
But Agatha didn’t try to use her magic again.  She didn’t try to send out violently violet shots in her direction, she didn’t try to run through and punch her in the face (which hadn’t seemed likely, but it was always possible), she’d just stood there and stood there and asked—
Agnes wasn’t even real.  She was just a serious of repetitive actions – a character following a script in a sit-com that…wasn’t a sit-com anymore, but that doesn’t matter.  It shouldn’t matter.  She isn’t – wasn’t – real.
The question still worms its way under Scarlet’s skin.  She can’t keep from muttering it under her breath as she stalks down the hallway from Agatha’s suite back to the living room, making the opening into the hallway disappear as soon as she makes her way out.  No point in leaving it accessible.  The boys – she doesn’t want them to have any way of getting to her, and Wendy….
Later.  Wendy can learn about Agatha later.  It’s one of those things she’d glossed over in explaining things to her the first time, and she doesn’t want to bring up that she’d decided this horrible, horrible woman deserved to share space with them just because she’d fucked up and hadn’t just killed her when she had the chance.
She still has the chance.  She can still kill her. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?  The easiest way to deal with Agatha would be to kill her. It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it. She absolutely, one hundred percent does.  There’s no telling how many other witches she’d killed over her three hundred years with the Darkhold—
“Everything okay?”
“No.”  Scarlet doesn’t even look over to Ash as she mutters a little more loudly through gritted teeth.  “I just invited the woman who tried to absorb my powers and kill my whole family into my house.  I let her free of the spell I put on her, and she is made at me for killing the woman she was under the spell.”  Her teeth grind together, and she instinctively feels her chaos magic spiraling around her fingertips.  “You’d think she would be grateful.”  She rolls her eyes.  “What happens to Agnes?  Like I would know?  She’s not even real.”
“She’s not?”  Ash glances over to the wall where the hallway opening used to be.  “She seemed pretty real to me.”
Scarlet shakes her head.  “Agatha is real,” she answers, teeth still gritted together.  “Agnes was the nosy busybody next-door neighbor character she pretended to be during the Westview sit-com situation.”  She rolls her fingers, letting her magic work its way around and between them in a nervous sort of tick.  “I cursed her to be Agnes when I left.  She isn’t real.”  She shoots a glare in Ash’s direction, taking in where her other self sits with her legs tucked up under her, leaning against one of the arms of the sofa.  “She isn’t.”
“What spell did you use?” Ash asks, head tilting ever so slightly to one side as she turns back to Scarlet.  “Because that could have—”
“It couldn’t have done anything,” Scarlet spits out.  “I can’t make people.  That’s why my boys are gone.”  Her eyes narrow into pinpoints.  “Try that again.”
Ash sighs.  “I can see that you’re upset, but that’s no reason to take it out on me.”  She meets Scarlet’s eyes.  “When you’re ready to have a reasonable conversation—”
“I’m not a child, Ash.”
“You’re acting like one,” Ash continues without missing a beat.  She raises an eyebrow.  “You already hate this Agatha Harkness woman.  I’ve never met her in my universe, other than her corpse, but this Agnes woman seemed charming, if a little naïve. If you want to hate her, fine. You’re letting her mess with your head. Fine.  But don’t take it out on me when all I’ve done is try to help.”
Scarlet takes a deep breath.  She tries to settle herself.  It doesn’t work as well as she would like.  “You believe her.”
“You don’t know that.  All I did was ask which spell you used.”  Ash tilts her head back.  “That doesn’t mean I believe anyone.”
“But you think it’s possible,” Scarlet says, choosing her words carefully and trying to keep the frustration and bitterness out of her tone.  Trying and failing.  “You think it’s possible that Agnes was real separate from Agatha.”
Ash pauses.  She considers.  She looks away.  “Yes and no,” she says, finally.  Then she pats the sofa cushion next to her.  “Sit with me.  Let’s have a little talk.”
Scarlet doesn’t want to have a little talk.  She doesn’t want Agatha to be right, doesn’t want to even consider the possibility of it.  It stings enough that Agatha had decided to bring her boys into the conversation - I think you know better than anyone how much it hurts when someone tells you the dead you’re mourning weren’t real – like they’re even remotely the same thing.  They aren’t.  Her teeth clench so tight her jaw aches.  You’re letting her mess with your head – as if Scarlet has any choice in the matter!
Breathe, Scarlet.
She tells herself that, and she takes a deep breath in through flared nostrils, forces herself to let the magic flickering through her fingers dissipate, then moves to sit on the couch next to Ash.  The plaid cushion shifts beneath the weight of her.  “What do you mean yes and no?” she asks, unable to keep her voice from sounding as tight as she feels.
“First,” Ash says, “you need to tell me what spell you did.  Magic can be very….”  She hesitates, struggling for the proper word.  “Convoluted, let’s say. Sometimes if you don’t word a spell properly, then it can have some unintended side-effects.  Usually not very good ones.”  She gestures to herself and then to Scarlet.  “We don’t need spells or runes or incantations.  You are the Scarlet Witch fully realized, and although I’m not, I still have the same ability you do.  We cast magic without needing any of that.  But magic is wild and chaotic – even more so since we use chaos magic – and if you aren’t very specific about what you want it to do, then it will often do other things, too.  Agnes…might be an unintended side-effect of the spell you cast.”
“It’s like you just said,” Scarlet explains.  “I didn’t cast a spell.  I just…did to her what I’d done to the other people in Westview, and I didn’t even do that on purpose.  My magic just spread out from me and changed everything, and I kept it running, but I didn’t….  I didn’t mean to do any of that.  It just happened.”
“You said Westview was sit-com world, right?”  When Scarlet nods, Ash asks, “And that happened…within a barrier you created?  It was all very self-contained?”
Scarlet nods again.  “Yes. Someone called it the Hex, and that took off, but yes.  It…didn’t last very long at all.  Not even a month.”  She hates to admit it.  Hates to admit that she’d only had her boys….  It doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t matter how long it was.  They were real.  They were hers.  And they’d had every right to exist.
“But the spell you placed on Agatha – the one that made her Agnes – that happened outside of the Hex.”
Ash glances up, eyes not really focusing on anything, and rolls her lips together.  She pauses for a little while, thinking about how to word things, and then asks, “The spell you created within the Hex, you maintained it while you were there, right? You had these people running on scripts in roles that you created for them, and you controlled everything?”
“I….”  Scarlet flushes furiously and refuses to meet Ash’s eyes.  “Yes,” she says, a lot softer this time.  “At first, I didn’t know, but even after…yes.  Except for Agnes, except for Vision, except for my boys, I controlled everything. But I wasn’t….  I knew I controlled everything, but I didn’t know that Agnes – Agatha – was something I wasn’t controlling.  It wasn’t a…perfect thing, Westview.  So much of it was just background noise.” She doesn’t look up, and she still doesn’t meet Ash’s eyes.  Her fingers move, flinch, shift through different poses, and the chaos magic comes back, threading in and through and around them.  “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” she whispers.
But Ash doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to this at all.  “But even after you cursed her, you weren’t controlling Agnes in the same way.”
It sounds like a statement, not like a question, although Scarlet had been expecting it to be asked. She considers this.  “I’m not sure I would have known,” she admits.  “So much of what happened with that aspect of things in Westview wasn’t conscious that I could have been controlling Agnes’s actions this entire time and not been aware of it.”  She presses her lips together and leans forward, resting her chin on one hand while the fingers of the other still fiddle with her magic.  “But I don’t…I don’t think I was.  The spell was meant to last independent of that.  Westview – on the outer edges, where I couldn’t maintain a constant focus – people were frozen in place, more props than people, and that….  I didn’t want Agatha – Agnes – to just freeze in place because I’d left Westview behind.  So no, I wasn’t.”  She glances up.  “Does that matter?”
“Yes, it does.”  Ash sighs. She glances over to the wall separating them from the hallway that lead to Agatha’s suite.  “When you cursed Agatha – when you created Agnes – you made some fundamental shifts to who Agatha was.  You locked the part of her you knew away and created a new Agatha, who you called Agnes, to take her place. You didn’t give Agnes a script to live by, which meant that she was able to make her own decisions, form her own thoughts, be her own person.  It doesn’t sound like that’s what you did with any of the other people in Westview, which is why you…didn’t have to deal with this with any of them.”  Her lips purse to one side.  “And Agnes got to do all of that for…how long has it been?”
Scarlet glances away again.  “Three years. Almost.”
Ash gives a chagrinned expression.  “Then yeah, I’d say Agnes was her own person.  Three years of making her own independent choices, even on a general personality rewrite spell, would have made her someone…new. And undoing the spell to restore Agatha would mean killing Agnes because she wouldn’t have anywhere else to go.”
The panic sets in then, in the core of Scarlet, this absolute refusal to believe what she’s hearing even as she has no choice but to do so.  “But I can put the spell back, can’t I?  If we wanted Agnes back instead of Agatha, I could…I could bring her back.”
“Yes and no,” Ash says.  “You could put the personality rewrite spell back, and you could probably root through Agatha’s mind to find her memories and restore them into that rewrite, but that doesn’t mean you would bring her back as she was.”  She stares at Scarlet.  “I thought you didn’t like Agnes.”
Scarlet scowls and crosses her arms. “I like her a lot more than I like Agatha.  She might be a little much, but she’s not, you know.”  She waggles her fingers in the air.  “A murdering witch who tried to kill me and absorb my power.”
Ash holds up a finger.  “You did just hear what you—”
“I know what I said.”  Scarlet glances over to Agatha’s suite.  “So Agnes is – was – real.  Separate. And I killed her.  And the only way to bring her back is to curse Agatha again—”
“Or wipe Agatha’s memories outside of the Agnes ones,” Ash interrupts, head tilting to one side and resting on her fingertips.  “There’s not really a spell to do all of that at once, but you could combine a few of them together to do what you want.  It would take me a little while to figure out the best way to do that, but it can be done.”  She glances over to Scarlet.  “If that’s what you want, of course.”
Scarlet stares at Ash.  “I – you – could erase Agatha entirely.  We could just have Agnes.  No Agatha Harkness.”
Ash shrugs one shoulder.  “Sure. It wouldn’t be hard, I don’t think.  Just complicated.  We did this a few times in my universe with people we didn’t feel comfortable….”  Her lips press together, and her gaze shifts away.  “The Illuminati could be quite merciless when it felt it was necessary. You saw what they intended to do to me.” She tucks strands of hair back behind one ear.  “Sometimes they asked me to…rehabilitate people.  This would be similar.”  Her eyes meet Scarlet’s.  “If that’s really what you want.”
“Could you…could you make someone else?” Scarlet asks, hesitant.  “Not Agnes, not Agatha, but….  Who she might have been, without all of…everything?”
Ash takes a deep breath.  “Yes, but when you’re trying to be that specific with memories and playing around with people’s minds like that, it can go…it can go really wrong, really easily. Usually the Illuminati wanted a full memory wipe, not picking and choosing, not trying to shift things so that people would have a specific personality or who they might have been if.  And when you start getting that specific, you run the chance of the spell having holes in it, and people coming out of one of those changes…she wouldn’t be....”  She sighs, rapping her fingers on the arm of the couch.  “Spend some time with her,” she says, finally, “while I figure out how to make the spell.  You may find that—”
“No, Ash,” Scarlet interrupts.  “No matter who Agatha is now, I don’t think I’ll like her any more than who she could be, and even if I do….”  She hesitates.  “Agatha lies. If you can fix her, that’ll be better.”
Ash presses her lips together.  Then she pushes herself off of the couch.  “I’ll get to work, then.”
“What,” Scarlet looks up at her as she starts to move behind the couch, “you don’t have anything to say about it?  You’re not…disappointed in me for wanting this?  You’re not going to tell me I’m making a bad decision?”
Ash sighs and meets Scarlet’s eyes.  “It’s not my job to pass judgment on your decisions, Scarlet.  You probably do a better job of that.”  But she doesn’t offer her a smile, and she doesn’t pat her shoulder when she leaves, and she doesn’t do anything even remotely comforting or reassuring.
Scarlet doesn’t like it.  She doesn’t like it at all.  But this is the right way of things.  She’s certain of it.  It’ll be safer for everyone, when she’s—
No.  Not thinking about that right now.
Death is just another thing on her long laundry list of things, and right now, she wants to push it off for as long as she can, even as she prepares for its inevitability, looming but not here yet.
Not yet.
The question then is, really, not what happens to Agnes but what happens to Agatha?
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why-i-love-comics · 3 days ago
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Defenders: Beyond #1 (2022)
written by Al Ewing art by Javier Rodriguez
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draco-kasai · 3 days ago
Someone needs to explain to me how I have yet to find a fanfic where America Chavez(from Marvel) decides to show Dr. Strange this cool universe she enjoyed where ppl have superpowers and it's the norm. Takes him to the BNHA universe and they run into Izuku being attacked by the sludge villain, help him and decide to teach him magic. Like-! 😭 My friends r telling me to do it but I already got so many fics in progress!!
Actually, why have I yet to find a Dr. Strange x BNHA crossover?! Hello????? Y'ALL OKAY???
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peachy-ash · 3 days ago
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𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 - america chavez
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askthechaoticwitch · 4 days ago
Does Stephen ever let you near America C.? Ever saw him doing dad things?
"It is an unspoken agreement to not go near her, for her own good and mine. It would be an unnecessary stress to America especially after the things I caused and it's only fair I keep my distance. However, Stephen does talk about her quite a lot, and with such fondness that's a little uncharacteristic. He often picks her up from school and signs school paperwork as her guardian. Quite charming."
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