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tamingthemuseFandom: Marvel Comics
Title: Reality
Characters: Magneto, Quicksilver (Pietro Maximoff), Scarlet Witch (Wanda Maximoff)
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse 163 solipsism
Word Count: 653
Rating: PG
Summary: Wanda's mind is a mess; she can't tell what's real or what isn't. Takes place right before the House of M alternate reality.
The room is dark and cool, and Wanda keeps her eyes closed and feigns sleep as she listens. Pietro’s talking so fast that his words are just one long, endless stream; he must be angry at someone. And then she hears her father’s low whisper, and she understands why Pietro is upset. The two of them never get along, probably never will, because they are too much alike with their quick tempers.
If they exist at all.
If her father and brother aren’t some figments of her unstable mind.
She doesn’t know if this is real, if any of her life has ever been real. She can alter reality, after all; who is to say that she didn’t make this up? Didn’t make everything up? Maybe she has no brother or father, no family. Maybe she was never married. Maybe there is no earth, no moon, no stars. Maybe nothing outside of her mind, this manufactured reality, exists at all.
That would be somewhat of a relief, actually. She’d be more frightened if all of this is real.
Now Father is shouting; that sounds real enough, but Wanda can’t be completely sure. She doesn’t trust her senses any longer, doesn’t trust anything or anyone, not even herself. Especially not herself.
And now Pietro is sobbing, and her heart lurches for the brother who might not even be real. She loves him, even if this world is fake, even if he is. Wanda calls for him softly, and he must hear her, because he is grabbing her hand, running his fingers through her hair, saying her name. If he is a figment of her imagination, at least he is a sweet one, a good one.
The Avengers are coming to kill her, if she hasn’t invented them too. Maybe their vengeance is only some elaborate form of suicide, a way for her damaged mind to invent some force strong enough to end her life. Let them come. She will not run or hide or even hold their actions against them. She understands, more so than her brother. Wanda is a rabid animal, and if the world out there really does exist, they need to protect it from her. She needs to be put down.
She isn’t afraid.
Pietro is crying again, a few tears snaking down his thin cheeks. He looks so old right now, and so much like their father. She doesn’t care if her twin is real or not; god, how she loves him, and it hurts her to hear his pain, hurts her even more to see it. Wanda brushes aside one of the strands of silver hair that is always falling into his eyes, kisses him on the cheek. “It’ll be all right,” she promises, even though she isn’t sure that’s the truth.
And then he’s talking too fast once more, his words blurring together like watercolors. He says something about creating a better world, a world that will make their father happy, a world where mutants rule. For all of the disagreements he has with their father, Pietro is certainly eager to please the man at every opportunity.
She doesn’t care about that, can’t even bring herself to care about her own life. But this man grasping her shoulders, figment or not…
She loves him most of all, more than she loves her father or even herself, and if he will be happy…
Why not?
Wanda closes her eyes, and the world fades away, only to be replaced with another one, like a snake shedding its skin.
For you, Pietro, she thinks to herself, I hope this makes you happy, Brother.
And then she feels little arms encircling her legs, looks down and sees two chubby faces beaming up at her, hears two high-pitched voices calling her mama. I am.
also posted here
[week 32]
Title: Reality
Characters: Magneto, Quicksilver (Pietro Maximoff), Scarlet Witch (Wanda Maximoff)
Prompt:
tamingthemuse 163 solipsism Word Count: 653
Rating: PG
Summary: Wanda's mind is a mess; she can't tell what's real or what isn't. Takes place right before the House of M alternate reality.
The room is dark and cool, and Wanda keeps her eyes closed and feigns sleep as she listens. Pietro’s talking so fast that his words are just one long, endless stream; he must be angry at someone. And then she hears her father’s low whisper, and she understands why Pietro is upset. The two of them never get along, probably never will, because they are too much alike with their quick tempers.
If they exist at all.
If her father and brother aren’t some figments of her unstable mind.
She doesn’t know if this is real, if any of her life has ever been real. She can alter reality, after all; who is to say that she didn’t make this up? Didn’t make everything up? Maybe she has no brother or father, no family. Maybe she was never married. Maybe there is no earth, no moon, no stars. Maybe nothing outside of her mind, this manufactured reality, exists at all.
That would be somewhat of a relief, actually. She’d be more frightened if all of this is real.
Now Father is shouting; that sounds real enough, but Wanda can’t be completely sure. She doesn’t trust her senses any longer, doesn’t trust anything or anyone, not even herself. Especially not herself.
And now Pietro is sobbing, and her heart lurches for the brother who might not even be real. She loves him, even if this world is fake, even if he is. Wanda calls for him softly, and he must hear her, because he is grabbing her hand, running his fingers through her hair, saying her name. If he is a figment of her imagination, at least he is a sweet one, a good one.
The Avengers are coming to kill her, if she hasn’t invented them too. Maybe their vengeance is only some elaborate form of suicide, a way for her damaged mind to invent some force strong enough to end her life. Let them come. She will not run or hide or even hold their actions against them. She understands, more so than her brother. Wanda is a rabid animal, and if the world out there really does exist, they need to protect it from her. She needs to be put down.
She isn’t afraid.
Pietro is crying again, a few tears snaking down his thin cheeks. He looks so old right now, and so much like their father. She doesn’t care if her twin is real or not; god, how she loves him, and it hurts her to hear his pain, hurts her even more to see it. Wanda brushes aside one of the strands of silver hair that is always falling into his eyes, kisses him on the cheek. “It’ll be all right,” she promises, even though she isn’t sure that’s the truth.
And then he’s talking too fast once more, his words blurring together like watercolors. He says something about creating a better world, a world that will make their father happy, a world where mutants rule. For all of the disagreements he has with their father, Pietro is certainly eager to please the man at every opportunity.
She doesn’t care about that, can’t even bring herself to care about her own life. But this man grasping her shoulders, figment or not…
She loves him most of all, more than she loves her father or even herself, and if he will be happy…
Why not?
Wanda closes her eyes, and the world fades away, only to be replaced with another one, like a snake shedding its skin.
For you, Pietro, she thinks to herself, I hope this makes you happy, Brother.
And then she feels little arms encircling her legs, looks down and sees two chubby faces beaming up at her, hears two high-pitched voices calling her mama. I am.
also posted here
[week 32]
