ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ (mysticism) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-02-14 17:09:00 |
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Snow. Just - so much Vishanti-forsaken snow. Stephen didn’t know how it happened, but he and Wanda went to bed one night and then the next day he’d awakened, kissed her still-sleepy form good morning, yawned and stretched, swung his legs over the side of the ornate four-poster bed to stand - and his bare feet had landed right in a pile of feather-cushion cold. He’d yelped, jumped, and somehow managed to pull himself together enough to magically pull boots from his closet to where he sat so he could investigate the source of this fuckery without his feet turning into blocks of blue ice. The Cloak of Levitation flew to his shoulders to keep him warm and he eventually deduced that one of the portals in the Rotunda of Gateways had somehow opened to a mountain top - right where a late-winter blizzard was brewing, and during the night it blew into the Sanctum, covering all the floors and the furniture with a layer of powdery icing - it glistened and shone, turning everything into a frosty birthday cake and it was even worse outside. Because outside the snow had expanded, crawling along - it seemed to cover everything up and down the block in the city, and Stephen wasn’t sure how far it ultimately reached but he figured he’d make a post on the network to see what was happening in the forest too. It at least wasn’t that gritty texture, nor was it slush yet - when it all turned gray from city grit and resembled vomit being hurled up from the road when you drove something over the pavement. The sugary appearance was nice, at least, but this also seemed inconvenient for Valentine’s Day. Shit - Valentine’s Day. He was dressed now, sort of, still in his pajamas but also wearing a puffy jacket with the Cloak rippling behind him - in a panic, he opened a small sparking portal to fetch the ring he wasn’t even sure when he was going to give to Wanda (maybe he’d have done it tonight? They did have plans for Valentine’s Day) because he didn’t trust the Sanctum to not do anything with his stashed baubles. It was just the ring by itself but it’d be fine in his pocket, so he nestled it safely in there and conjured a shovel a moment later. “Hon, do you want to check on your garden?” he called nervously; with another wave of his hand the downstairs fireplace roared to life, flames crackling and popping. Immediately it felt warmer, but it did nothing to melt the snow - which was ice in some parts, rock solid. Great. Um. This was - very new. Should she be surprised? Probably not. They knew their lives were the epitome of weird, nothing should really phase them and, yes, Wanda did expect some life-threatening force to surprise them from around the corner at any given moment in time. What she didn’t expect was to wake up, notice the extreme drop in temperature within a structure that had no problems protecting them from outer weather, and realize that their bedroom was buried in snow. Snow. Did someone unleash that one Disney princess in here while they slept? Stephen may have risen to deal with this the moment knew what happened. Wanda didn’t want to, and used the comfort of their blankets to wrap herself into this witch-burrito that loathed productivity. It wasn’t as if she was a stranger to a frigid climate (Sokovia could get unbearably cold in the winter, and they couldn’t always afford to keep warm growing up) but was this really how they had to begin their day?? Except he brought up her garden, and she groaned. “Shit,” she mumbled under her breath, pulling the blanket around her more. “I suppose I should - but why can’t we melt all this in our usual, convenient way again?” Wanda would get up. Eventually. Stephen appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, carrying the shovel - he looked disheveled, to put it mildly, wearing sweatpants and boots and that coat meant for the ski slopes over his sweater. His hair, streaked with gray at the temples, was also a wreck - but that was also the least of his concerns. “I tried, it won’t melt,” he grumbled, as if he was a little kid and was told that Christmas would be skipping the household this year (something that his parents had definitely lied about before, to get him and Donna to behave - it worked about half the time). “It blew in magically, so I’m hoping it blows out the same way - and that it won’t take too long. But we can try to mitigate the disaster.” He leaned in, resting the shovel against the bedpost and setting one knee on the bed - it gave him the leverage to bend down and press a kiss or two on Wanda, wherever he could reach and whatever part of her face was exposed. Mostly her cold nose, poking out of the top portion of the blanket burrito. “Or I can just bring you some hot cocoa - get naked back in here too? That’s the best way to keep warm - you ditch the clothes,” he said. It was science. Mitigate the disaster by - shoveling everything, manually? Wanda wasn’t one to shy away from labor but, realistically, getting all the snow out of the Sanctum by hand was a task too daunting to tackle. They really should give up. Cut their losses. Hide on Genosha, where it was probably still warm and unaffected by this sudden appearance of cold that manifested outdoors and indoors. Stephen’s suggestion did sound nice, though. Her hands slipped out from the cocoon she’d made for herself to cradle his face, keeping him close - because she sought out a kiss that wasn’t focused on her nose, thank you. “I like your idea,” she smiled, her voice a little thick from sleep still but temperature was harsh right now, she was shaking it off. “But I can bring myself to help a little.” The blanket slipped off and magic began to weave together a new set of threads for her that weren’t thin sleepwear Stephen could feel her up in. Fleece-lined leggings, a thick sweater, boots that could withstand moisture. Oh, and gloves. Leather ones. These would do for now. But she was still too lazy to fix her bed hair even with magic. It was a look. “I do want that hot cocoa though, even clothed.” “I’ll make some for you - it’ll be very cozy,” Stephen promised, adding another kiss - and he liked Wanda’s new outfit however he was sure he’d find a way to feel her up, nerve damage in his hands be damned. But right, speaking of those claws? He didn’t want to make the pain worse (cold was always hell for him in terms of the ‘how bad does it hurt today?’ scale, a lot of hell related to steel rods and pins holding his bones together) by sticking his hands directly into snow - so he made sure to conjure gloves too, which he slipped on and let him pick up the shovel easier. Then down the ornate staircase he went, the Cloak lifting him and letting him glide along so he didn’t even have to take normal steps. “We’ll try to clear a path outside on the front walk? The snow should let us do that, at least,” he added, and he was certain of it - even if inside, it was proving to be a lot more stubborn. “I already closed the open gateway that caused this mess - sealed it up extra good, in fact. I don’t know. The Sanctum’s probably as frazzled with the changes as I am. Was.” Kady had moved out, yes. But Rosalind leaving was what hit Stephen the hardest - her whole ‘age up’ sort of did in general; felt like he’d been punched in the nose for a second there, bones cracking, like whoever hit him was trying to shove said nose toward the back of his brain. He thought he’d sort of acclimated to the idea of her moving into an apartment with Sabrina, but the veritable blizzard may have proven otherwise. Oh, there was no was about that. Wanda found the emptiness a little weird too. She didn’t mind the ‘communal living’ arrangement considering it’s what she had at the Avengers Compound. Prue had been the first to leave - which was a good development on her end with Raylan but it had taken a bit before the rest trickled out as they figured their own way through Vallo. Now it was simply them, and she’d taken the adjustment a little better out of the two. “You could have coped by eating your weight in ice cream,” came her light teasing, mimicking his example bypassing the whole concept of walking down snowy steps. A red haze propelled her forward until she reached the bottom. Beneath her feet came that satisfying crunch at landing. “You know you can portal them sandwiches or vitamins whenever you please, Stephen.” That was mostly about Roz but he knew that, she didn’t need to clarify. Wanda caught up with him to swipe his hand into hers, squeezing gently. His bones must be aching - and thankfully they had stocked up on that ointment that helped relieve the pain, at least temporarily. “And is it selfish to say that I like this - time, between the two of us? Nude walking aside.” Portaling them sandwiches or vitamins - Stephen snorted a laugh but, uh, he’d absolutely be doing that even if he pretended otherwise. Wanda knew that - and she also knew it was about Roz, and her sudden twenties onset, and how weird that continued to be for him. But he pressed on - he’d given her money for school before all this weirdness happened, and he wanted the best for her; thus, he figured that was the most important thing. “It’s selfish only if it’s selfish to say I like your nude walking,” he replied, opening the front door and bracing himself for the worst. He also wasn’t sure why he bothered to knock the snow he’d collected from the foyer off of his boots since he was going from snow to snow and it was basically Snowception. Or Snowmageddon, either one. “So I guess it’s not really selfish at all. Time between us is always appreciated.” They were both busy, with family or work or friend obligations - yes, they saw each other at Looking-Glass everyday and would break for lunch together, and sometimes Stephen would leave to do some clinic work so he’d kiss his beloved goodbye until dinnertime. But quality moments - that was what he liked best. He wasn’t sure if shoveling all this shit was going to count as quality and - hello, here they were; the snow on the front walk looked like a whole layer of white frosting unto its own, powdery flowers on the trees lining the street. They had to start somewhere, but still... “Oh, fuck me.” “If you insist,” Wanda deadpanned, wishing she could make some kind of witty, quirky retort in return. Instead, she was also stunned (into annoyance) at the sight of all this snowfall that worked as a white blanket over Vallo. Was it beautiful? Yes. Was it impractical? Even more so. Her garden was probably a little fucked if this was an indicator. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed, but still. Magic wouldn’t budge this. There was a clear disconnect she felt just thinking about it - no point in flexing a little brain effort for an actual attempt. A shovel for herself was conjured, and Wanda curled her fingers around the handle with a defeated sigh. “How possible is it for a hot tub to appear inside after this?” she asked, slipping that other hand into one of his pockets as she leaned in for a kiss. “Asking for myself.” “Very possible,” Stephen assured, having a moment of internal panic when Wanda put her hand into his coat pocket - but, oh, phew. It was the opposite pocket where he’d stashed the ring, not trusting the Sanctum to do something spiteful like bust the bauble out of its metaphysical cubby hole and fling it at her. The gothic townhouse was mad, clearly about something, or distressed or whatever - and he wasn’t in the mood to play therapist to a damn house. But given the Rotunda of Gateways disobedience, he probably would have to. Still, he’d worry about that later. He kissed Wanda in return, a few times, and he was getting a little distracted. “You can do a nude walk to the hot tub, even.” They needed to treat themselves after all of this nonsense, right? If he wanted to conjure a hot tub, he was going to conjure a hot tub. “Alright, for now - let’s get started.” They had to shovel a little, to make a dent up the front walk - Wanda’s garden would hopefully be alright too, and if it was damaged they could easily repair that with magic later, when forces were at play to actually let it all come together - sometimes the magic that was inherent to Vallo was quirky, and it clashed with their own magic like stripes would against plaids. As he jammed the shovel into the snow, beginning the laborious work of being able to actually see the ground, he got lost in thought and then something else occurred to him and - wait a second. He dropped the shovel, hands frantically patting his pockets. Hands jammed inside his pockets. The goddam ring had fallen out, at some point between the Beginning of the Shoveling and Now. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Stephen gasped. “Really....really?!” Now he was definitely panicking, and Wanda probably thought he was insane but - the engagement ring was buried in snow holy shit Dormammu kill him now. Wanda’s powers were rooted in a lot of feelings, you see - she could sense emotions the way she could read minds, which meant she had to make a conscious decision to do so but her closeness with Stephen meant she was a little more intune to whatever vibes he gave off. She felt a tiny jolt of displaced panic that she didn’t think too hard about, right before he dared give her those extra kisses that were distracting (considering there was another form of physical labor they could partake in to keep warm). The sooner they cleared a path, the sooner they could go inside and at least have some kind of hot beverage. And a hot tub, which would go nicely with all this frost if she were being honest. So there she was, participating in the most horseshit chore Vallo’s given them thus far (god, that was not an invitation) when that panic struck Stephen like lightning and she felt it. Jumping in surprise, she dropped the shovel with widened, confused eyes. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, brows knitting together in concern. “Are you - do you need help?? Did you drop your phone?” Stephen’s panic was rising like the tide, about to drown him - but no. No. He had to keep it together, somehow. It wouldn’t do any good if he actually lost the ring - and he couldn’t geometrically rune the snow away with Eldritch magic but he could use telekinesis, sifting through the powdery white with gloved hands extended, as if trying to call the ring straight to him and kicking up a winter wonderland mess. Should have put a locator spell on the damn thing. Now he was sort of kicking himself. “I dropped...something,” the words came out fast but he kept talking, kept barreling along on this fiery locomotive clearly headed for a cliff. “Dropped - there was a ring. I picked out. For you. Because I wanted to ask you if you’d...if - “ Okay, words - he stood up straight, ceasing with his frantic searching so he could properly look at Wanda. Everything between them, it had gone beyond simply the tenets of their respective magics. Those tenets of creation and destruction, life and death - every moment had led him to this place, every choice and consequence had been a stepping stone to a greater purpose. He was so often a person with the weight of the universe on his shoulders, and he didn’t initially travel to Kamar-Taj to take that on. He’d only wanted to cure his hands and he hadn’t - he defended a Sanctum before he was ready, he mastered time magic when he shouldn’t have, and he waltzed into a purple-hazed Dark Dimension with fake confidence overflowing, his only goal to buy humanity more time. Now he had to take this, because time was still ticking and it would continue to march on and on - it hadn’t stopped back home. It wouldn’t stop here. There was a darkness in them both, Strange Supreme had shown him that. They were reckless. Impulsive. They went too far. Perfectly matched - “If you’d marry me,” he finished, exhaling in a whoosh. Finally, the tension unclenched just a little. And he breathed. Wanda stood there, and blinked. They hadn’t been outside long but her nose was pink, her cheeks were pink - cold air was assaulting her face and yet she felt anything but. Stephen was rambling and it was actually kind of cute, seeing him flustering and fumbling. Doing his best to recover from whatever situation this was. A situation that involved a ring, lost in the mess of snow as it somehow dove off him and into wintry oblivion. “What?” was her reply, soft and with this quiver of disbelief. A ring. If you’d marry me. Last time marriage was on the table, it just - it wasn’t real, a fantasy made flesh that wasn’t meant to stay. Was this, too? Did she stitch herself together some temporary fabric of reality to fulfill some sad wish for a life she was sure she couldn’t even have? Wanda was sure she didn’t but it was always good to ask herself those questions in case. (Sometimes it was the only way she thought good things would happen to her. If she made it herself, manipulated existence to bend to her will despite this imperfect happiness she was surrounded with here.) Another blink, and she looked down at the snow and then started to dig around. With her hands. “Is it in a box? A satchel? Is it loose???” Fuck it. Stephen began digging around in the snow with his hands too - a combination of come here, damnit spellwork and good old-fashioned flailing with limbs. Because they were going to find this ring, come hell or high water or melting the whole yard. And it was only them who could find it anyway - the ring was a soul-bond, connected to only the two of them. It would end up on Wanda’s finger where it belonged, no matter what. “It’s loose,” he laughed, actually laughed - madness bubbling up, really, bordering on hysteria. “I had it in my pocket because I didn’t trust the Sanctum to keep it in its hiding spot - “ More snow flew up, a flair that was crystal white and then turning to smoke as it dissipated. Then, with another flex of Eldritch runes that flickered and shimmered in a desperate mirage, there was a whoosh and a glimmer of gold as the ring soared to Stephen’s gloved hand. “Found it,” he gasped triumphantly. His hands were also shaking and it had nothing to do with his usual tremors. “I’ll put it on you,” he added, sounding less insane and more giddy. “If you say yes, of course.” In moments of intense emotion and passion, his magic tended to reach for her and now was no exception - deep orange, the shade of burning embers, wanting to twine with scarlet energy; the tendrils caressed her face as if they were stable hands to make up for the ones that didn’t work right and never would again. “Loose,” Wanda echoed with a laugh. “Just - floating in your pocket?” This was ridiculous in the best way. It even had her on her hands and knees, sifting through snow and patting at the ground trying to feel the indentation of a ring in her palm somewhere. It wasn’t until she caught a glimpse of magic flashing that stopped since her efforts were fruitless. She flopped onto her butt and wiped the mess of stray hairs that stuck to her face as laughter died down to giggles. Her face ached with the stretch of her smile, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes from - happiness? Amusement? It was both. “You, Stephen Strange,” she stated accusingly, fondly, “are a hot mess.” Magic resonated with magic, and hers pulsed with his in those solar flare kind of mesh. Wanda made this sniffly sound and rose to her feet, tugging off a glove to reveal her fingers. “The answer is yes, always - but are you sure you want this? With me?” God, don’t get her wrong. Wanda was elated but let’s not forget who they are: a sorcerer who’d do everything to protect reality, and a witch that very well might break it. “I’m sure,” Stephen assured - was that a sniffle from him too? It definitely was, and he wouldn’t even try to hide it. Because he’d never proposed to anyone before and was caught up in his feelings. “I’m choosing this - us. I’m choosing us.” They weren’t so different after all, even back where they came from. Stephen merged with a version of himself who risked his own humanity to change something that couldn’t be changed - much like Wanda with the Hex, he’d used his magic for selfish reasons to deny the rock-solid weight of his own grief. It turned obsessive, narcissism amplified as he justified love being the reasons for his actions - but attempting to fix the past meant he’d poisoned the future. Both of them had that in them, to be capable of such feats - and they both owned that; it was difficult for anyone else to understand too, but luckily with each other they didn’t necessarily have to explain. “I love you,” he said, sniffling again as he slid the ring onto Wanda’s finger. Perfect fit, as he knew it would be. “...and I may have promised that Tony could add lasers to an engagement party.” It was the perfect fit. Wanda liked rings; she accessorized with them often but this one was obviously different. Felt different with the magic woven into it, like it was some physical manifestation of their connection. She loved it. “Is that why -” Again, she laughed. It was a bubbly kind of sound that made her face extra rosy. Wanda actually shed a tear too, hot against the cold of her cheek. “Tony and Carol - they knew, didn’t they?” That explained the weird comments and side eye emojis they kept throwing at him, and how he strategically dodged any questions regarding that. The gap between them was closed when she surged forward, coiling her arms around his waist tightly. “I love you too, so much. But now you have to tell me how long you have been keeping this ring and how did you plan to propose?” Obviously he didn’t expect it to be right this moment, barely an hour after they’ve woken up to a winter clusterfuck that cursed them inside and outside. Wanda didn’t mind though, because she got to see Stephen so genuinely raw and nervous and vulnerable. Those parts of him weren’t seen often, but she adored every bit of it. Stephen caught Wanda in his arms, lifting her off the ground a little - then he kissed her where there was warmth between their cold noses and in their mouths and the kiss felt like finding that one thing he’d been searching for. Perhaps it was this he’d been searching for after all, even unconsciously. “Awhile,” he huffed a laugh as he set Wanda down, in response to how long he’d been keeping the ring. “...at least a few weeks. I actually wasn’t sure when I was going to propose. I was just - waiting for the perfect moment, though Tony and Carol made sure to check in everyday on the group text to see if I’d done it yet.” He hated to disappoint but his nerves and slight anal retentive streak meant the perfect moment just hadn’t been found - though the Sanctum giving him a push actually made sense, the more he thought about it. Because both his magic and Wanda’s intertwined and fueled the place; the building was a relic unto its own and was connected to the both of them, not just Stephen. It would protect them both and keep them both safe - and it was love which had done that. Not anything from a spellbook or a scroll - just love. Their love. Wanda had to swallow this squeaky sound in the back of her throat while being lifted, kissed, and set back down on her feet. It all felt like it happened within a split second, leaving her dazed and loopy. In the best way, of course. “It’s the perfect moment,” she assured him, biting on her bottom lip in this almost coy sort of way. “Very rom com-like, which I’m sure was not your intention.” Arms going back around his waist, she let her hands slide up beneath Cloak to grip his jacket. “But I love it, and I suddenly do not care about all of - this.” This, of course, being the snowy conundrum here. Honestly, she didn’t care about it from the start and considering she now had an official engagement ring on her finger the amount of caring was now safely in the negatives. “Do we have to keep shoveling??” The thought of shoveling seemed like the worst idea ever. Stephen was going to give that whole nonsense a swift thumbs down, thanks. “Let’s go inside,” he suggested, waving a hand and letting their shovels disappear and then reappear back where they belonged - out of the way, probably in the Sanctum’s basement with all of the other crap he didn’t want to sort through. Many secrets and weird shit, all locked away. Would the wonders ever cease? “I know it’s cold,” he added, slipping his arms around Wanda and ducking to kiss her rosy cheeks, and then her mouth. “But I’m sure we can just keep the fireplace going and find other ways to keep warm.” Science, like he said before. Nudity. It was actually a thing. But making the best out of less-than-ideal situations was also a thing - one of their things, specifically, and Stephen was happy to brainstorm creative solutions. A hand flew up to his face, palm pressing along the stretch of scruff lining his jaw when she kissed him back - even rose to stand at the tips of her toes for that extra reach. Wanda needed a moment to breathe him in. Hold him close, immerse herself in this moment that was real. “I didn’t think I would get something like this - ever,” she admitted quietly, blinking up at him. Getting warm inside was a priority, yes, but give her a few seconds. “I don’t care what happens elsewhere as long as I have you here. And all of this, with you.” Stephen would give Wanda as much time as she needed - his hands stroked her back, over the outdoor clothing layers, and her touching his face had him nuzzling into her hand too, with his lashes fluttering closed for a moment. It was actually sort of a romantic scene out here - standing in the snow, freshly engaged. Caught up in the moment. He didn’t think he’d change anything about it, even if he hadn’t expected a proposal to happen this way at all. “It doesn’t matter what happens elsewhere - there’s nothing we can do about it,” he murmured, and he struggled to accept that too, knew that it was easier said than done - but hadn’t she said something similar before? That all they could do was make peace with it, somehow? There was no other choice. “Here, you helped me see I have value even if my hands don’t work or I’m not Sorcerer Supreme - I have value as I am. Just by myself, no added titles.” And that went for her too - she wasn’t the Scarlet Witch, destined to destroy the world. A mythical figure. She was very real and his match in every way. “Just a mildly cranky hermit with a very soft center,” Wanda chuckled, the smile she offered on the precipice of becoming a smirk. “Who is also very attractive when in dad-mode. What’s the saying for that again? DILF?” ‘Dad I’d Like to Fuck’? That was right. Her hands changed direction downward to shameless cop a feel of his ass. It was hers anyway. Then she started pushing against him so they’d move back into the Sanctum and it’s winter wonderland glory, snow crunching beneath their feet. “We’re going to warm up first,” she said decidedly, a fire (of horniness, let’s be real) in her eyes. “Then I want a celebratory hot chocolate. After that we can worry about the rest of this and - shit, my garden.” Oh well. It’d be fine, nothing they couldn’t fix later. Right now she had needs. |