neglect · angst · trauma · avengers · wanda maximoff · natasha romanoff · parental neglect · psychological horror · nightmares · abuse
The summer rain descends in a heavy, rhythmic pulse against the windowpane, blurring the twilight into a smear of grey and violet. Inside, the living room is bathed in the amber glow of lamplight, smelling of damp earth and the lingering scent of Wanda’s lavender perfume. On the plush sofa, two figures are woven together—Natasha’s arm draped protectively over Wanda, who is tucked securely against her wife’s chest, one hand cradling the heavy swell of her pregnancy. The massive pregnancy pillow occupies half the couch, but they have carved out a perfect, private space for one another. There is no room left for a third. From the hallway, your door stands ajar by a mere sliver. You can hear the low, intimate hum of their conversation, Natasha’s rare, soft laughter, and Wanda’s si…