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mionemymind · 1 month

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Give Me Another Chance

Summary: The five times Y/n asks Wanda to give her another chance and the one time Wanda says yes.

Warnings: Angst, No Happy Ending, Dying, No Part Two?

A/n: Was heavily inspired to write this angst after reading Marry Me by @just-aake Theirs had a happy ending to it so I highly suggest reading their lovely work.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

“Give me another chance, Wanda,” Y/n pleaded as the two walked through the compound late for their meeting. It was 8:30 am. The group was instructed to arrive for the mission briefing at 8:15 am. Wanda barely had time to brush her teeth before she ran out of her room and immediately bumped into the last person she wanted to speak to, her ex.

“Shut it, Y/n.” Y/n sighed as she kept her mouth shut. The headache coming from drinking too much poured into her head like a tsunami. “I blame you if we get the short end of this mission.” Before Y/n could respond, the two finally arrived at the conference room.

“You’re late.” Steve deadpanned. “We-”

“No excuses Y/n, you and Wanda are on backup duty. Stay in the quinjet until asked.” Wanda groveled silently as she was handed the mission file by Natasha. Y/n stood behind Bucky and peered over his notes.

“This was going to be a long day,” Y/n thought.

“Give me another chance, Wanda,” Y/n begged through the phone. She was walking through the bustling streets of downtown New York to find Wanda. The girl had mysteriously gone out for the night and decided to tell no one about her location. This was nothing new to the team, even Natasha knew it was something that Wanda did to feel better about herself after their breakup.

But tonight felt different to Y/n. It was already past midnight and Wanda hadn’t come back home. Y/n called again only for the phone to go straight to voicemail for the 10th time tonight. “Watch where you’re going asshole!”

“Sorry,” Y/n mouthed as she walked away. Realistically, Y/n knew that Wanda could handle herself even if she was impaired, her magic subconsciously protected her in situations like this. But the worry that pitted her stomach told her otherwise.

“Where could you be?” Y/n thought out loud. Looking around the surrounding buildings, Y/n’s eyes settled on the Chrysler building. Like a light bulb, a switch flipped in her head. Running to the nearest empty alleyway, Y/n called for her suit and flew to the top of the building.

In all her glory there was Wanda lying on the edge of the Chrysler building. Her cheeks were flushed as she held the near empty bottle on her stomach. The remainder of the six-pack lay waste on the floor. Wanda didn’t know how much time had passed since she started drinking. The near numbness in her lips indicated that it had been a while.

Y/n landed with a soft thud, not wanting to scare Wanda off. She checked her watch and it was already 2:00 am, a new record for Wanda. Leaving her suit behind, Y/n walked slowly to Wanda. Once she was within arm's reach, Y/n securely held her by the waist.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda didn’t have to turn her head to know who it was. The feeling of sensing Y/n was something she used to enjoy. Now it was just a constant reminder of their failed relationship.

“I’m here to take you home. It’s late Wanda.” Wanda sighed as she let Y/n gently grab the bottle from her hand. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“You’re drunk Wanda.”

“And you’re the asshole that left me.” Y/n ignored the insult thrown her way and picked Wanda up bridal style. “You’re gonna get hypothermia if you stay out here.” Y/n looked down at Wanda when she didn’t respond back. The brunette was already deep asleep as she nuzzled her head into Y/n’s chest.

When Wanda woke up the next day, she refused to ask who took her home. Not when her thoughts already lingered about Y/n.

“Give me another chance, Wanda,” Y/n whispered as she held Wanda’s hand. The brunette was dressed in an all-black skin-tight dress with high heels. She even put make-up on to feel better for the occasion.

“You don’t deserve me.” Wanda walked away from Y/n and to the open elevator. Their eyes met again as the doors closed. Once she was fully out of sight, Wanda let a tear fall. “Why must you make it so hard for me to move on?”

“Give me another chance-”

“Are you serious right now?” Wanda was in disbelief. “You. Fucked. Up.” She poked at Y/n’s chest. “Not me. And now you want me to seriously give you another chance?

“I understand that I fucked up-”

“No! You don’t! You broke up with me and left me to sort things out by myself. And cowardly enough, you went on a mission just to avoid talking to me.”

“Let me explain-”

“Explain? What is there to explain? I’ve begged and begged so many times before for you to tell me the truth. Each time you would shut me out and disappear. You never had the decency to tell me anything. But now when it’s convenient for you, I suddenly am the bad guy for not hearing you out. “

Wanda shoved Y/n out of her room. “All you did was make me wonder why I ever deserved that type of treatment when all I ever did was love you.”

“I’m sorry I keep messing things up,” Y/n groaned. The bruises on her chest made it hard to breathe or maybe it was the blood she could taste in her mouth. Regardless, everything hurts. “I wasn’t really thinking when I broke up with you back then.”

Wanda ignored the burning feeling in her chest as she continued to rip apart the indestructible chair Y/n was cuffed to. “Are you serious right now? Y/n please use your fucking smart brain and help me get you out.”

Wanda concentrated back on her powers to try and rip apart one of the steel cuffs. When the cuff didn’t give, Wanda stopped in frustration. “Why isn’t this working?”

“‘Cause they knew you would be the one to get me.” Wanda furrowed her brows, not understanding who “they” was. “What are you talking about?”

A loud pitch echoed through the chambers as the intercom turned on. “Countdown commences. Ten minutes till detonation.” The large screen behind Wanda flickered as the countdown was displayed in bright red.

“Tony! I need you to locate the bomb. Y/n is stuck in this chair and I can’t get her out of it.” Wanda looked around the room once more but the lack of controls and buttons made it feel useless.

Wanda hurried back to Y/n at the sound of her coughing up more blood. “What did they do to you dekta?” Y/n tried her best to grin, not wanting to show Wanda how much pain she was in.

“You’ve done worse to me in training,” Y/n joked but none of it sat right with Wanda’s conscience. Using her shirt, Wanda wiped part of the blood that came out. She used her free hand to locate the source of the bleeding.

“Wanda,” her green eyes focused on the brown eyes she loved. “I think I’m dying.”

“Shh shh - don’t talk like that dekta.” Wanda located a small tear inside Y/n’s organs and used her magic to pause the bleeding. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

“I’m sorry for all the times I’ve failed you.”

“What-”

“And I’m sorry for leaving you.”

“Now is not the time-”

“We’re out of time my love.” Y/n glanced to the screen in front of them. Only five minutes left before it detonated.

“Any updates Tony?! We have five minutes left!” Wanda yelled.

“I’m trying my best here. We’re swarmed!”

“Wanda - I need you to listen-”

“No!” Wanda declared. She looked at Y/n with a deadly stare. “Stop acting like that - like this is our last chance.” Wanda refused to believe that the world would be cruel to let the love of her life slip past her. Not when they haven’t sorted everything out. Not when things are still bad.

“I love you,” Y/n whispered with a tired smile. Wanda could feel Y/n’s energy draining by the second. The longer she went without medical attention, the slimmer her chances of survival grew. She gripped on Y/n’s shirt, trying her best to keep her cries at bay.

“Don’t-” Wanda sobbed as tears fell down her face. “This isn’t how I wanted you to confess. I deserve a confession where dying isn’t involved.”

“One minute remaining,” the announcement said. Y/n’s eyes started to droop. Her consciousness was slipping by the second. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek and lightly tapped her face.

“Wake up dekta.” Y/n slowly opened her eyes. “Ask me again.”

“What?”

“Tell me you want me back.” Wanda pressed her forehead against Y/n’s. “Tell me to give you another chance and I will. I’ll give you all the chances in the world so just ask me.”

“Wanda…will you give me another chance my love?”

0:00

The world slowed down as the bomb deep under the building blew up. Wanda could feel the blast reaching to them as she created a magic barrier that surrounded her and Y/n. And as it continued to explode around them, Wanda leaned in and kissed Y/n hoping that the last thing the dying girl felt was her love.

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#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff angst #angst #marvel #Give Me Another Chance #Mionemymind

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transmascissues · 6 months

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hey i know your post about your mom was mostly just a personal vent, but i have to say, do you realize that also happens with trans girls and their fathers? literally happened to one of my friends. i’m not trying to downplay your experience or something but i found it strange that you seem to think this is something that only affects transmascs

i have one question for you: so fucking what?

i don’t doubt that trans girls have experienced similar things and yeah, that’s bad too, but what the fuck does that have to do with me and the specific things i’m facing as a result of being a trans man? i never said “look at this thing that happens to ONLY trans men and NO ONE ELSE,” i just said “hey, isn’t this thing that happens to a lot of trans men, including myself, fucked up?”

i would also like to point out that what you’re talking about is in fact a different (albeit similar) thing. the way cis people treat trans people can differ dramatically based on the cis person’s gender because their commitment to gender roles is, like, a major part of problem. the specific way a cis mother reacts to her trans son’s transition is often going to be very distinct, while a cis father will likely respond to his trans daughter in a different but equally distinct way.

what i’m talking about is a very specific kind of ownership and control and self-victimization and total lack of boundaries masquerading as love and care and maternal concern that cis women (i would argue white cis women in particular) project onto their transmasc kids when we do literally anything to our bodies. i’m talking about a phenomenon which is closely related to the way moms often pass eating disorders onto their daughters (or children they view as daughters) because they see a body that looks something like theirs and project all of their insecurities and ideals onto it. i’m talking about a form of parental transphobia and projection that’s specific to the dynamic of a cis mother and her child who was “supposed to” be her daughter.

if you’ve never felt that, you’re not even remotely qualified to tell me shit about how i should be talking about that experience, and if you couldn’t recognize that experience when you read my post, i’m guessing you probably haven’t experienced it because the replies to that post made it very clear to me that anyone who has experienced it firsthand immediately knew exactly what i meant.

like, yeah, cis dads also project onto their trans daughters, but are they likely to have a reaction like running away with actual tears streaming down their face? do you expect them to passive aggressively make comments about how sad their kid’s transition makes them, how it’s such a difficult emotional time, how it’s so tragic because their kid’s body was so beautiful before? do you think their go-to transphobic reaction will be weaponizing their emotions? i’m sure there are some dads out there who are like that, but i think we can agree they’re in the minority because that’s not how cis men are taught to react and parents like this tend to be pretty damn committed to following the gender roles they were taught.

and even if i’m wrong and our experiences are exactly the same, let me reiterate that i never said this was an experience exclusive to trans men. all i said is that it happens to us. that’s just a statement of objective fact.

this started in my life when i got my hair cut short for the first time almost a decade ago and it has not stopped since. i’ve watched my mom cry over me changing my name and respond to being asked if my happiness matters more to her than my name by saying “i care about both”, i’ve watched her melt down in a mall over me getting a suit for prom and give me the silent treatment for days after, i’ve heard her plead with me to stop t because it “looks unnatural” and she’s just so “concerned for my health”, i’ve watched her stare at me post-op and say “my poor baby” over and over like she’s looking at my corpse in a casket. i’ve watched her turn herself into the victim of every single aspect of my transition. i’ve had to live with this for 9 years and spent the early years of the pandemic literally locked in a house with it. this has been my entire adolescent and adult life, and the question of if i’ll have to cut her off someday (and maybe never see my cat or my little cousins who i love more than anything in the world ever again as a result) haunts me every single day.

who the fuck are you to tell me how to talk about that?

#i hope you weren’t expecting me to take this in good faith and give a nice measured response #because just so we’re clear you didn’t have a chance in hell of doing anything other than pissing me off #like in case you forgot i am a real person who this is happening to #in what world did you think i’d care about how an anonymous stranger feels about how i describe it when im the one who has to live it #idk man. some of y’all clearly do not see me as an actual person capable of emotion and it shows #also like. using a friend’s experience is wild bc 1) how do you know it was the same if it didn’t happen to you #and 2) would that friend really want you using their experience against another trans person experiencing something similar?#anon hate #ask answered #examples of transandrophobia #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #trans men

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