#mxndwitch

Erik Lehnsherr does not get sick. It’s a statement of fact, an acknowledgement of the way the world is; the mutant has had injuries aplenty, but he could count on one hand the number of times he has been genuinely ill. Meaning that, when his heart starts to fail, he is quick to notice.

It’s to be expected really, at his age. Auburn hair has long since greyed, and the strands around his temples are most definitely heading for white. Muscles and joints are not what they once were, and on bad days it can be painful to work with his hands; his days of sewing are long gone. His limp is more pronounced now than it ever was, and he frequently relies on the manipulation of magnetic fields to move about the island with any kind of ease. Erik has reached an age that, to most, would be entirely unthinkable. He knows the time he has left is short.

And still, he goes on. The mutant is not afraid of dying – hasn’t been afraid of that since the age of sixteen – but dying means leaving his family, his loved ones, and he will take every moment with them that the universe will allow. He will wring as much time from this life as he can, will hold on with everything available to him, until he is forced to let go. In the meantime, he is determined that his family will have no cause to worry, or to fear. And if his heart needs a little encouragement from his mutation every so often, then what of it? Nobody needs to know.

The unexpected wetness on the back of his hand jolts Erik awake, confused gaze taking a moment to focus on the world around him. He’s at home, in his favourite armchair, and Persephone is sitting at his feet, licking his hand in a way that means she’s hoping for either food or a scratch behind the ears. The mutant blinks a couple of times. Did he fall asleep in the armchair again? How embarrassing. A quick glance towards the familiar voices he can hear in the kitchen. Hopefully they didn’t notice his little nap.

She made it to the bathroom, but once there realized that maybe the pressure she felt was indicator for something entirely different than expected. Bracing against the sink, she winced. “Fuck…Steve? Can you get the nurse? I think…I think the baby is coming NOW”, she called out for her husband, knowing it would cause him to freak out most likely, but she was very sure that she needed to push, which was not something she should do without someone present. The only issue was, that she could not move and sincerely regretted having escaped into the bathroom on her own. Even though she was trying her best to keep her body from pushing, it didn’t work at all and so she dug her fingers into the porcelain and groaned in pain. Now that she had sent Steve out, she couldn’t even ask him anymore to help her back into the room, which was also a problem. “Take it easy, little girl”, she muttered under her breath, because this was moving a little too fast. “STEVE!” @mxndwitch

Steve was about to help Wanda up and to the bathroom, but she was so quick to do it herself.  His eyes widened when she ripped the IV from her and he took a step forward.  “Honey--”  He loved his headstrong, sweet wife but he was afraid she might be overdoing it a little.  She needed to slow down before she hurt herself.

Once she went into the bathroom, Steve stationed himself outside of the door, waiting just in case she needed him.  His leg shook nervously and he checked his watch several times. He was both tired and wide awake -- it was such a strange feeling.  “Wand--” He started to say but was cut short when he heard her curse.  Usually he considered her dirty language pretty cute, but this time she sounded in pain and upset.  

Oh shit.

Their baby was coming!  “Okay, sweetie! I’ll call for the nurse!” he was saying, trying to keep his cool as he raced out into the hallway, looking in both directions so he could flag someone down.  He found one, said something to her on the lines of ‘Wife. Baby!’ And then went racing back into Wanda’s room and into the bathroom.

@mxndwitch || this is a meme from somewhere in here || accepting!

how much longer until we can get out of here ?

Wanda's question is a direct reflection of exactly how he feels inside. Long fingers entangle with hers, brushing the backs of her knuckles against the edge of his thigh. Black dress pants provide a slick friction over her soft skin. They look so out of place. Formal get togethers? Even if they're celebrating, he could think of a dozen and a half better ways to do that than to stuff them all together in what feels like a pressure cooker of admiring wait staff, plus ones of other invited guests he doesn't know and the actual people he wants to see.

Tuxedos and polished looks? Yeah, he can do the part. But he's so damn uncomfortable that he'd rather crawl out of his skin than do the mingling thing. Wanda looks amazing. Beautiful from head to toe. The wait staff can't take their eyes off her every time one passes by. Makes him grin against the lip of his beer that he refused to let them pour into a glass. Might be six or seven star or whatever, but ruining a damn good beer for a showy presentation?

That's a sin he's not willing to watch in person.

Lashes fall as his eyelids drop to veil his gaze from view, lips pucker and an audible--pondering, "Hmmmm," comes rolling out of his throat. Deep and thoughtful. He's dragging it out because--now that he knows they're both in Purgatory? Might as well torture her a little bit it. Even if it means torturing himself in the meantime. Might be the most fun he's had all night.

"Don't know.. Think it's rude to just drink and go? Or do we make a quick circle and disappear before anyone makes us sit at a table and small talk?" Brows shove together and he looks at her with a hopeless smile. "You know I'm not good at that." Eyes roll towards the ceiling as he laughs, shaking his head and cutting himself off with another swig right after. "Fuck. I don't know why I let myself get talked into these things anyway... Do we do the small talk thing?"

"Listen, the type of pizza someone likes tells a lot about them."

@mxndwitch​ said:  ❝  it has to be me.  no one else can do this.  ❞ from some meme || always accepting

Steve shook his head, his eyes moving between Wanda and the threat that existed. “You don’t have to do this alone, Wanda. I’m here for you. I’ll help you as long as you let me.” He cared about the witch and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel like she had no one to lean on.

Ship Aesthetic for Bucky x Wanda

Edit of Luna and Wanda

Ah… So THAT was what this was about. That was where this anger that was practically radiating from her came from. Negan actually dropped his attitude when she began speaking of what happened at Oceanside. Something that he hadn’t been aware of when it had happened — it had been the same with the people at the trash heap, Jadis… And the two situations had ultimately lead to him realising that Simon COULDN’T be trusted.