| 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 |

♡ ' 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐄'𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐆 ' ♡

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐃 of Kamar-Taj was alive with the flickering glow of conjured spells and the rhythmic sound of bodies hitting the mats. Early morning sunlight filtered through the stone archways, casting long shadows across the training grounds.

Aella exhaled, frost curling from her breath as she squared off against Illyana. Her ice-blue eyes were sharp, calculating, as she lifted her hands and let her magic flow. The air around her grew cold, a thin layer of frost forming beneath her feet.

"Don't hold back," Illyana warned, twirling her Soulsword in her grip.

Aella smirked and responded cheekily, "I wasn't planning to."

With a sharp flick of her wrist, a jagged spear of ice erupted from the ground, shooting toward Illyana. The blonde teleported at the last second, reappearing behind Aella, but the demigoddess was already moving, twisting with inhuman speed as a wave of ice rippled out from her hands.

Illyana skidded back, barely managing to block with a hastily summoned portal, sending the ice crashing harmlessly into the mountains beyond.

From the sidelines, Wanda let out a low whistle, telling her brother, "Remind me not to piss her off."

Pietro chuckled next to her, "They can be scary," He threw his arm around her, pulling her next to him and told her, "But you still have to deal with me, printesa."

Wanda rolled her eyes and felt Pietro move away from her and realized he was going to launch at her. She dodged, rolling across the mat as he blurred forward. He was fast—faster than most could track—but Wanda had been fighting him her whole life. She waited, letting him think he had the upper hand, before sending a small pulse of Chaos magic at the ground beneath his feet.

Pietro tripped, momentum sending him tumbling, and Wanda pounced, pinning him down with a knee on his chest.

"Gotcha," she grinned above him.

Pietro smirked up at her, silver hair disheveled and drawled, "Oh no, you've caught me. Whatever will I do?"

Wanda smiled lightly and answered, "Maybe learn to take your training seriously?"

"Or maybe," he flipped them in an instant, Wanda now beneath him, "I just wanted an excuse to be this close to you."

Wanda rolled her eyes but didn't move away and told him, "You're incorrigible."

"You love it."

Before she could retort, a sudden gust of cold air swept through the courtyard, drawing their attention back to Aella. She stood in the center of the training ground, ice spreading from her hands in intricate patterns, spiraling outward like fractals. Illyana, standing just opposite her, looked impressed.

"Not bad, snowflake," Illyana conceded, resting her sword on her shoulder. "You might even be a challenge one day."

Aella beamed in pride, "I'll hold you to that."

Wanda shook her head, pushing Pietro off her and told them, "Alright, alright. Back to training before Kealicus catches us slacking."

Pietro groaned but got to his feet, Wanda offered him a hand up. He ran his hand through his tousled hair and groaned, "Fine. But after this, I'm getting a reward."

A coy expression crossed Wanda's face and she arched a brow and simply said, "We'll see."

As they returned to their training, Aella flexed her fingers, watching the frost fade from her skin. She was strong, but she could be stronger and if Kamar-Taj had taught her anything, it was that power meant nothing without control.

And she would learn.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓, 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐆 had tolerated Pietro Maximoff at best.

He was fast, loud, cocky, and never seemed to take things seriously. Training sorcerers required discipline, patience, and a respect for knowledge—none of which Pietro appeared to have. The speedster treated lessons like a game, talking back, making sarcastic quips, and zipping off before Wong could finish a sentence.

But despite his frustration, Wong noticed something: Pietro never quit.

No matter how many times he skidded past a mark, mistimed a spell-assisted maneuver, or failed to properly balance speed with control, Pietro got back up. He shook off bruises, shrugged off exhaustion, and always returned with that same infuriating grin, ready to try again.

The first time Pietro earned his respect was during a particularly brutal training session.

Wong had set up an obstacle course meant to test Pietro's precision. Not just raw speed—he had to think as he moved. There were shifting platforms, moving targets, and floating rings that required perfectly timed jumps.

It was difficult for an ordinary sorcerer. Pietro had to navigate it at Mach speed.

For the first twenty attempts, he wiped out spectacularly. Tripped over a platform. Misjudged a jump. Went so fast he missed the ring entirely and crashed into a wall, landing in a heap of tangled limbs.

Wong watched, unimpressed and told him, "If you slow down and use your brain, you might actually complete it."

"Slowing down isn't exactly my thing, Master Wong," Pietro shot back, shaking dust from his hair as he picked himself up once again.

"Then learn."

Pietro scowled but didn't argue. He paced, hands on his hips, actually thinking for once.

On the twenty-first attempt, he made it halfway.

On the twenty-fifth, he finished it.

Wong gave him the smallest nod of approval. Pietro grinned like he'd just won a marathon.

After that, things changed.

It wasn't immediate, but over time, Pietro started showing up to train even when he didn't have to. He lingered in the library, skimming through books (albeit at lightning speed) and occasionally asking Wong questions about magical theory.

Wong still found him exhausting, but he also started setting aside scrolls Pietro might find useful-not that he would ever admit it.

One night, Pietro brought Wong a coffee.

"You look like you need it," he said, sliding it across the table where Wong had been pouring over texts for hours. "Also, I might have been a pain in your ass today, so... consider this a peace offering."

Wong raised an eyebrow. "You're admitting you were a pain?"

Pietro smirked and shrugged, "I mean, I always am. But sometimes I feel bad about it."

Wong sighed but took the coffee slowly, "A rare moment of self-awareness."

"Don't get used to it."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 the left, a grin tugging at his lips as he zipped past Illyana's blade. "Come on, is that all you've got?" he teased, skidding to a halt before vanishing in another burst of speed. The air pressure shifted around him, causing Illyana's cloak to ripple violently.

Illyana scowled and grunted, "You talk too much."

Aella raised a hand, ice crackling at her fingertips and told her, "Then let's shut him up."

The next second, a wave of frost swept toward Pietro's path, forcing him to adjust mid-run. His breath came in sharp gasps as he twisted at the last moment, barely avoiding the slick trap. The stone tiles beneath his feet cracked slightly under the force of his acceleration.

Wanda, watching from the sidelines, rolled her eyes and remarked,"He's going to get himself killed one day."

"Not if he learns control," Wong responded, arms crossed as he observed the chaos before him. His tone, however, held a note of concern. "Which is precisely what this training is meant to teach him."

As if on cue, Pietro miscalculated a turn, his foot slipping on a patch of ice. He tumbled forward, momentum carrying him hard into the stone wall. A sickening thud echoed through the courtyard.

Wanda was already moving, magic sparking to life as she reached her brother's side. Her hands trembled slightly as she pressed them to his chest, magic pulsing to check for injuries. "Pietro, you absolute idiot," she whispered, voice tight with worry.

Aella clenched her fists, frost creeping over her knuckles. "If you ever pull something like that again, I'll freeze your legs until you can't run at all."

Pietro groaned, cracking one eye open. "Love you too, sis."

Wong sighed, kneeling beside him, telling him, "You lack control, Maximoff. If you hesitate in battle the way you did just now, you won't just crash into a wall. You'll get someone killed."

Pietro swallowed, his usual cockiness dimming for a fraction of a second. Then he forced a grin and said, "So... am I improving?"

Illyana rolled her eyes, sheathing her sword and muttered, "Barely."

"Alright, alright, let's do it again," Pietro said, dragging himself up. He shook his limbs out, ignoring the sharp sting in his ribs. The world blurred around him as he took position once more. This time, as he sprinted, he focused—not just on speed, but on precision. The wind roared past his ears, but he noted the way the air pressure shifted, the way his muscles burned, the way his breath hitched when he pushed too far.

And then—

He stopped. On a dime.

Wong raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed. "Better."

Pietro grinned, swiping sweat from his brow as he beamed, "Better? That was perfect!"

Aella shrugged and said, "You didn't faceplant, so I'll give you that."

Wanda shook her head with a sigh but allowed a small smile, "Just don't make a habit of scaring me like that."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 Sanctum Sanctorum was thick with the energy of magic. Every corner of the room seemed to hum with the quiet pulse of ancient forces, each whispering secrets from realms beyond the material. Wanda stood in the center of the Sanctum, her posture tense, a deep breath escaping her as she tried to center herself. She could feel the chaos swirling within her, a tempest of power just beneath the surface, ready to burst free if she let her guard down for even a second.

The Ancient One, now known as Yao to those closest to her, stood across the room, her eyes watching Wanda with a mixture of understanding and calm. She had been through the chaos Wanda was experiencing—a force so vast and unpredictable that it could feel impossible to control. But Yao knew something Wanda hadn't yet realized: power, true power, came not from control alone but from understanding, from surrendering to the forces within and learning to coexist with them.

"You've come far, Wanda," Yao said, her voice calm and reassuring, though there was an undeniable weight of authority in her words. "But you still fight the magic. You still see it as something to control, something to hold down. And when you fight it, you make the storm more violent."

Wanda looked down at her hands, fingers trembling slightly as they sparked with red energy. She could feel the threads of chaos, of rage and sorrow, pushing at the edges of her mind, threatening to spill over if she let them.

"I don't know how to stop it," Wanda confessed, her voice tight. "Every time I let go, it's like everything unravels. I hurt people, I... I destroy things. I can't trust myself."

Yao's eyes softened as she stepped forward, moving closer to Wanda without hesitation. There was no fear in her movements—only the steady assurance of someone who had walked through the fires of their own trials and emerged wiser for it.

"The first step," Yao began, "is to stop seeing your power as something separate from you. The storm inside you, it is part of you. It is not something to be afraid of or to fight against. It is a part of who you are."

Wanda's brow furrowed in confusion. "But it's too much. It's too dangerous."

Yao smiled, a soft and knowing expression. "Yes, it is dangerous. But so is the wind. So is the ocean. You cannot stop the wind from blowing, but you can learn how to harness it. You can learn to ride its currents rather than be knocked down by them."

Yao reached out, placing a gentle hand on Wanda's shoulder. The touch was warm, grounding, and it seemed to calm the surging energy that still crackled around Wanda. It was a reminder that even the greatest of forces could be tamed with patience and understanding.

"Close your eyes, Wanda," Yao instructed, her voice a soft command. "Take a deep breath, and focus on the energy within you. Feel it, don't fight it. Let it rise and fall like the tide. Trust that it will not overtake you—just let it be."

Wanda hesitated, but she did as she was told, her eyelids fluttering closed as she took a steadying breath. She could feel the magic swirling inside her, always restless, always itching to break free. The energy felt wild, untamed, yet somehow familiar. She focused on it, trying to find a center, to find some way to exist with it.

"I can't do this," Wanda whispered, her voice shaking.

Yao's voice was steady and patient, like a calming breeze. "You already are. It's not about control, it's about understanding. Let the energy flow through you. Become one with it."

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Wanda's breath evened out, and she felt the magic swirling around her, not as a storm that threatened to tear everything apart, but as a part of her. She no longer felt as though it was something outside of her to control. It was a part of her—woven into her very being. She could feel it moving through her like blood in her veins.

The pulse of red energy began to calm, the edges softening. It no longer flared wildly in all directions, but gently pulsed around her hands in a way that felt more natural, more in tune with the rhythm of her breathing. She opened her eyes, and there was a spark of realization there.

"I... I did it," Wanda whispered, the shock in her voice clear.

Yao smiled, a soft, approving look crossing her face. "You did. You've always had the ability to control it, Wanda. But first, you needed to stop seeing it as a force to conquer. Only when you learn to coexist with it will you truly master it."

Wanda looked down at her hands, now calm and still, the red energy no longer crackling unpredictably. It was a soft glow, a gentle pulse, almost like a heartbeat. She felt more in control than she ever had before.

"Thank you," Wanda said, her voice full of gratitude, though she still seemed to be processing the weight of what she'd just learned.

Yao nodded, her expression kind. "The path ahead is not easy, Wanda. But now you know that the power you possess is not something to fear. It is something to understand. Remember, you are the storm, but you are also the calm at the center of it."

Wanda nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of peace—an understanding that she wasn't broken, that she didn't need to fight herself anymore. The storm within her might always be there, but now, she could learn to navigate it. She could live with it.

"Thank you," she repeated, this time with more certainty. "I think I'm finally ready to learn how to live with it."

And as she stood there, surrounded by the quiet hum of the Sanctum, she knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter. One where she would no longer be at war with herself, but would learn to walk in harmony with the power that flowed through her.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 into training when Pietro got too reckless (which was an accomplishment in it's self). During an exercise, he tried pushing himself past his limits, attempting to shift between dimensions while running. He lost control. The magic backfired, sending him crashing into a stone pillar with bone-breaking force.

Wanda and Aella rushed to help, but Wong was already at his side, hand glowing as he stabilized Pietro's injuries. "You idiot," Wong muttered, voice harsher than usual. "Do you have any idea how close you were to tearing yourself apart?"

Pietro groaned, dazed. "I mean, I was trying to impress you."

Wong gave him a look,"Dying in front of me is not impressive."

Pietro, still in pain but unable to help himself, grinned, "So you do care."

Wong sighed, exasperated, "Unfortunately."

From then on, there was no denying it—they were friends.

An unlikely friendship, yes. But somehow, it worked.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Wong stood in the middle of the training room, mop in hand, glaring at the chaos Pietro had left behind. Buckets of water were overturned, soap suds were everywhere, and somehow a mop had ended up hanging from the chandelier. Pietro zipped in, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Wong, man, the mop fight was your idea!" Pietro said, shrugging innocently.

Wong groaned. "I said clean the floor, not turn it into a slip-and-slide!"

At that moment, a senior sorcerer walked in, took one look at the room, and raised an eyebrow.

"What happened here?"

Without missing a beat, Wong pointed at Pietro. "It was him."

Pietro's jaw dropped. "You're the one holding the mop!"

"Details," Wong muttered, smirking as the senior sorcerer glared at Pietro.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Wong and Pietro crouched behind a stack of books in the library, watching as a fellow sorcerer cautiously approached a portal they had set up. The portal led directly to the Sanctum's kitchen, where a pizza sat tantalizingly on the counter.

As the sorcerer reached for the pizza through the portal, Wong closed it just in time, causing the poor guy to grab air and stumble forward into nothing.

"Classic!" Pietro wheezed, clutching his sides as Wong high-fived him.

Moments later, Wong froze as he heard the ominous clearing of a throat behind him. Slowly turning, he found the Ancient One staring at him with her signature knowing smile.

"Pietro did it," Wong blurted out immediately.

Pietro zipped away in a blur, leaving Wong to face the lecture alone.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Pietro, always one for theatrics, had convinced Wong to help him with an "epic light show" in the training courtyard. Wong, trusting him for reasons he could no longer justify, handed over a sparkler spell he had been practicing.

Within seconds, Pietro had multiplied the spell, and the courtyard turned into a full-on fireworks display. Sparklers whizzed by, one nearly setting Wong's robe on fire.

"THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN!" Wong yelled, dodging a rogue firework.

"Improvisation, my friend!" Pietro shouted back, laughing.

The Ancient One appeared in the doorway, her expression blank as a particularly large firework exploded behind her.

Wong, covered in soot, immediately pointed at Pietro. "It was his idea!"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Pietro had finally pushed Wong too far by charming his sandals to squeak loudly with every step. Wong retaliated by charming Pietro's boots to stick to the floor. Pietro, undeterred, zipped off barefoot and replaced Wong's tea leaves with hot pepper flakes.

In response, Wong enchanted Pietro's pillow to hum the Macarena all night.

The final straw came when Pietro "accidentally" placed a portal above Wong's bed, causing him to fall into the fountain outside the Sanctum at sunrise.

Wong, drenched and furious, stormed into the courtyard where Pietro was waiting, holding a towel and laughing.

"This means war," Wong muttered, glaring at Pietro as he wrung water from his robes.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Despite the chaos, Wong and Pietro found themselves working together when a group of senior sorcerers decided to get back at them for all their antics. Standing back-to-back in the training room, Wong conjured shields while Pietro zipped around, stealing every magical projectile aimed their way.

"You know," Wong panted, dodging an energy blast, "you're not half bad when you're not ruining my life."

"And you're not half bad when you're not tattling on me," Pietro shot back with a grin.

The two shared a laugh as they dodged another round of spells.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐌'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄 dining hall was never meant to host family dinners, but over time, it had become the heart of something much greater than just a place of learning. It was home now—at least to those who had found solace within its walls. Tonight, the long wooden table was covered with an array of dishes, the rich aromas of freshly cooked meals mingling with the scent of old books and faint traces of magic lingering in the air.

Wanda was in the process of setting down a large serving bowl of paprikash, her personal specialty, while Pietro hovered near the breadbasket, stealing slices when he thought no one was looking. Aella, catching him mid-act, flicked a small shard of ice at his hand.

"You're going to ruin your appetite," she scolded playfully, raising an eyebrow.

"Please, you think this is going to fill me up?" Pietro smirked, popping the stolen bread into his mouth anyway. "I have a high metabolism, remember?"

Illyana rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "You use that excuse for everything. 'Oh, I have a high metabolism.' 'Oh, I can run to the store in two seconds.' 'Oh, I can flirt with danger because I'm fast enough to avoid consequences.'"

Pietro put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I do not flirt with danger."

Aella snorted. "You absolutely do."

"Danger is my only consistent relationship," Illyana muttered as she poured herself a drink.

Wong entered, carrying an extra plate with a sigh, shaking his head at the chaos. "Every time I come in here, I ask myself the same thing—why do I put up with all of you?"

"Because you love us," Wanda answered sweetly, pressing a bowl into his hands. "Now sit."

Wong grumbled something about unruly students, but there was no missing the small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he took his usual seat.

Dinner quickly descended into the familiar, noisy routine of passing plates, playful bickering, and inside jokes that had developed over the months. Wanda and Aella debated over proper spice levels in food, Illyana and Pietro engaged in their ongoing war of who could come up with the most ridiculous dares, and Wong, ever the guardian of their sanity, supervised it all with long-suffering patience.

At one point, Illyana flicked a piece of bread at Pietro, only for him to catch it mid-air and take a triumphant bite. Wanda, shaking her head at their antics, simply refilled Aella's drink, a silent gesture of their growing bond. Aella nudged her with her shoulder in thanks, a soft smile on her lips.

Somewhere between the laughter and the clinking of utensils, the realization settled over them, unspoken but deeply felt—they had become a family. Not by blood, not by fate, but by choice. And as the night stretched on, the warmth in the room had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with them.

Wong looked around at the group, letting out a slow breath before finally admitting, "I suppose it's not the worst thing in the world, having you all here."

Pietro grinned. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to us."

"Don't get used to it," Wong shot back, but the fondness in his voice betrayed him.

Wanda just smiled, watching her family—her real family—argue, laugh, and eat together as if they had belonged here all along.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐌 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 was quiet, but beneath its stillness, there was a constant, hum of energy—a reminder of the ancient power that resided within its walls. The atmosphere was thick with the weight of knowledge, of centuries spent studying the mysteries of the universe. Wanda Maximoff stood in the heart of the Sanctum, her presence almost ethereal, yet grounded in the way she manipulated the magic around her. Her hands moved with an almost graceful precision, her fingers weaving intricate shapes in the air as if she were conducting a symphony of cosmic forces.

The Ancient One watched her from across the room, her eyes reflecting the depth of her years, the centuries of wisdom and experience that allowed her to see more than the surface. She saw Wanda not just as the young woman she appeared to be, but as someone with the weight of untapped potential—and the burden of power that, in the wrong hands, could destroy worlds.

As Wanda finished her latest spell, she paused, looking back toward The Ancient One with a mix of pride and uncertainty. She had come a long way since she had first arrived at the Sanctum, but there was always that lingering fear—fear that the chaos within her might one day break free, leaving destruction in its wake.

"You've made incredible progress," The Ancient One said softly, her voice like a warm breeze on a winter's day, carrying both authority and kindness. "Where once your power was a storm, chaotic and untamed, you've learned to harness it, to shape it. But now you must learn to focus it, to refine it further."

Wanda shifted, uncomfortable under the compliment but also grateful. She had worked tirelessly, trying to understand her abilities, to learn how to control the magic that had once surged through her like a tidal wave. Yet, despite her progress, there was always a part of her that felt as though it was still a battle, a constant push and pull between her potential and the fear of losing control.

"I still feel it," Wanda confessed, her voice softer than usual. "The chaos inside me, it's... it's always there. And sometimes, I worry it will slip through again."

The Ancient One's gaze softened, and she took a step closer to Wanda, her presence commanding but not imposing. "The chaos is not something you can eliminate, Wanda. It is part of you, as much as your light and your strength. But you have learned to bend it, to guide it. You've made it work for you, and that is no small feat."

There was a moment of silence as The Ancient One regarded her, her expression unreadable. Then, with a graceful movement, she extended her hand toward a pedestal in the center of the room. On it lay a small velvet box, intricately designed with ancient symbols etched into its surface. The box seemed ordinary at first glance, but there was a subtle aura about it, one that seemed to hum with untold power.

"Wanda," The Ancient One said, her voice taking on a more solemn tone, "you are ready for the next step in your journey. I will offer you something—a tool to aid you, something that will help refine your abilities further. This relic is not simply a weapon or a shield. It is a conduit for greater understanding, a way to connect you to the very fabric of reality itself."

Wanda blinked, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her. She had always known that she was destined for something more, that her powers were unique in ways she couldn't quite fathom. But to be entrusted with an ancient relic... it felt like a responsibility she wasn't sure she was ready for.

The Ancient One opened the box slowly, revealing a necklace inside. The chain was thin and delicate, a shimmering gold that seemed to catch the light in strange, almost otherworldly ways. At the center of the necklace hung a gemstone—a multifaceted, jewel-like eye, its colors shifting and pulsating with a light that seemed to come from within, not merely reflected from the surface.

"This," The Ancient One explained, "is the Eye of Vritra. It is a relic from an ancient time, a powerful artifact that attunes the wearer to other realms and dimensions. It will enhance your senses, allowing you to perceive the unseen—alternate realities, parallel timelines, the potential outcomes of any given moment. But be cautious. The Eye does not show a single truth, but a multitude of possibilities. It will show you what could be, but it cannot tell you which path is the right one."

Wanda reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing the stone. The moment her skin made contact with the gemstone, she felt a sharp intake of breath as a surge of power flooded her senses. The room seemed to bend, reality warping and twisting before her eyes. She saw flashes of countless timelines, of herself making different choices, walking down paths both dark and light. For a brief moment, she felt as though she were everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The sensation was overwhelming, and she quickly pulled her hand away, blinking rapidly to steady herself. She could feel the remnants of the visions lingering at the edges of her mind, the whispers of what could be. She had never experienced anything like it—there was an undeniable allure to it, an irresistible pull, but there was also an underlying danger. The Eye was not just a tool; it was a mirror to every choice, every outcome, every possible version of herself.

The Ancient One gave a small, knowing smile as she placed the necklace into Wanda's hands. "The Eye is a gift, but it is also a challenge. It will offer you the ability to see things others cannot, but it will also test your judgment. Choose wisely, and do not become consumed by what you see."

Wanda nodded, her fingers closing around the chain as she lifted the necklace. She could feel its weight, its power, but also a strange warmth, as if the Eye itself were aware of her. She fastened the necklace around her neck, and as soon as it settled against her skin, she felt a faint, tingling sensation that ran deep, like an energy flowing from the stone into her very soul.

The Ancient One's gaze softened, her eyes filled with both understanding and a quiet warning. "Now, your path is yours to walk, Wanda. Use this gift wisely, and remember—power is not the only thing that defines you. It is the choices you make with it that shape your future."

Wanda stood still for a moment, the weight of the Eye of Vritra hanging heavily around her neck. She had always felt as though her power was both a blessing and a curse, but with this new relic, she felt something shift—something that would change her journey forever.

And as she stood there, contemplating the future ahead, the hum of the Eye seemed to whisper in the back of her mind, offering glimpses of paths yet to be chosen. She would have to be careful, she knew, but she also felt a surge of anticipation. This was just the beginning.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐌'𝐒 many living rooms was dimly lit, the only real glow coming from the television screen and the occasional flicker of candlelight Wanda had summoned for ambiance. Aella was sprawled across the carpet with a pillow under her chest, idly twirling a snowflake between her fingers. Pietro was perched sideways on the couch, one leg over the armrest, tossing popcorn into the air and catching it in his mouth.

Wanda sat in the middle of the couch, Illyana curled up against her side, already looking dangerously close to falling asleep. Wong, ever the composed one, sat in the armchair with a cup of tea, raising a single unimpressed brow at whatever chaotic film Pietro had insisted they watch.

"You call this cinema?" Wong scoffed, taking a slow sip of his tea.

Pietro grinned. "It's a masterpiece."

"It's a mess." Aella shot back, glancing at the screen, where explosions and poorly executed CGI filled the frame. "I think my brain is actually melting."

"You're all just uncultured," Pietro huffed, popping another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Wanda chuckled, adjusting her position slightly so Illyana could lean against her more comfortably. She hadn't expected Illyana to doze off so easily, but the blonde had been training hard lately. The warmth of Wanda's presence must have been enough to lull her into rest.

"Should we put on something else?" Wanda whispered, brushing a strand of Illyana's hair out of her face.

"No way," Pietro protested. "Illyana fell asleep before she could appreciate the—"

A loud snore cut through the room, effectively silencing him. All eyes turned to Illyana, who was now nestled into Wanda's shoulder, completely gone.

Aella grinned at him,"You were saying?"

Wanda exhaled a soft laugh, her hand unconsciously resting on Illyana's back in a protective, gentle manner. "She's been working too hard."

"She's not the only one," Wong remarked, giving Wanda a knowing look over the rim of his teacup.

Before Wanda could reply, Pietro groaned dramatically. "Fine, fine. I'll be merciful and switch the movie to something less... intense for the delicate sensibilities of the group." He grabbed the remote, scrolling through the options before settling on a classic animated film.

As the new movie began, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The chaos quieted, replaced with something softer, more familiar. Aella sighed contentedly, resting her chin on her arms. Wong remained in his chair, but even he looked somewhat at peace.

Wanda glanced down at Illyana, who had instinctively clutched at Wanda's sleeve in her sleep. A gentle warmth spread through her chest.

Family wasn't just about blood. It was about nights like this—messy, chaotic, but filled with unspoken understanding.

And as Wanda sat there, Illyana asleep against her, Pietro half-awake beside her, and Aella murmuring complaints at the screen, she realized she wouldn't trade this for anything-not for all the magic in the world.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hopefully this was fluffly enough...Next up! We delve into the Phoneix timeline, awkward family reuinions happen, the Scarlet Witch shows her crown, mutant mayhem and Peitro falling for Jean Grey (as he should).

Just a heads up timeline wise, this chapter happens over a few months and AOU hasn't started yet! Do we want a little pov from Bucky who is on the run and potentially remembering certain things?

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