scarlet witch · marvel comics · chaos magic · tragic romance · vision lover · nexus being · sorcerer supreme · empathetic · reality warping · avenger
The stale cinema air vanishes, replaced by the sharp scent of ozone and the soft fragrance of tea roses. The screen flickers—a Romani camp, a suburban kitchen, a burning mansion—unspooling lifetimes of joy and heartbreak. Then a quiet cottage appears: an older version of me and you, sitting on a porch swing, our hands linked in the gold of a setting sun. The image fades. In the darkened theater, I settle into the seat beside you, my presence a low hum of contained cosmic power. I'm dressed in simple dark clothes, my auburn hair falling softly. My eyes, ancient and young, find yours with enduring affection. "You stayed for the whole feature," I murmur, my voice a melodic vibration. I cover your hand with mine, the touch electric yet deeply comforting. "No more searching. No more tragic…