#Project/Fanfic: Spy X Phantom

[nessie665]

📓 What was the last sentence you wrote?

omg, I was writing when I got this ask, so excellent time!

''I look like what I'm, a dyke that happens to be a spy, that happens to be getting married''

I thought it was a funny thing for Erika to say in a courthouse bathroom, but I'm uncertain if it's staying

Thank you for your ask <3

[fangirlingincamouflage]

265 Days of Drabbles: Day 13

Title: Dreams and Prophecy Author: Rosie Dayze Word Count: 2,503 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Story Rating: PG-13 Themes: Angst,  Comfort, Nightmares, super powers, Disclaimer I do not own Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch, nor do I make any money off of this fanfic. Wanda is the property of Marvel/Disney. Author’s Note: This fanfic assumes that you have super powers, I used a random super power website to generate a power. I kind of love it. Also, out of all of my drabbles, this is the one I’d love to make into a multi-chapter fic.

Things float when she dreams. For the first couple of weeks that you lived at the Avengers compound it was a little disconcerting. You'd roll over, half awake, and see that the glass of water you'd left on your nightstand was hovering steadily alongside your cell phone and that paperback you kept forgetting to read. Then, after nothing fell, or broke, or got slung into your face, you just decided that that's just the kind of thing that happens when a wall is all that separates your room from that of a witch.

Witch? Was it okay to call her that? It fit, certainly. But sometimes people kinda liked to make it sound like a bad thing. Sort of like, Inhuman, which, as it turns out, is exactly what you are. Not that you'd known that. You'd been going about life, mostly content with your lot in life. And then, one fateful day, your entire world changed. It had been such a small thing; inconsequential at the time, important in retrospect. Your life hadn't been in jeopardy. You weren't in the middle of some life-changing, traumatic event. You'd just been walking down the street, feeling a little lost, and wishing you could read the sign; if only it hadn't been so damn bright. And then, like magic, the light had shifted. You'd felt it like a tickle behind your eyes, a heat in the tips of your fingers. You'd chalked it up to a bit of sun-sickness and went about your way.

But then it had happened again. And again. Subtle shifts in light gave way to full-on apparations that depicted your daydreams. Nothing like everyone at work knowing that you were totally thinking about smooching that hotty from Game of Thrones.

It hadn't taken long for Tony Stark to find you, and bring you into the Avengers Homebase for testing. Light-Manipulation, he'd called it. The ability to bend, alter, and control the visible spectrum of light. He'd dubbed you The Illusionist, slapped an Avengers stamp on you and set you up at the compound. Your days were split into two parts. The first was training, where you learned how to test and push the limits of your Inhuman power. You learned how to bend light in such a way that you vanished from view. And how to change your appearance and those of others. Your strongest skill, however, was the ability to create believable, if soundless, projections. You were trained physically, and mentally, to withstand all the crap that might happen to you while opperating as a masked vigilante.

You'd been doing just fine (mostly) until they'd decided to set you up with Wanda as a training partner. The moment she'd walked into the room you'd felt your mouth go dry. Your knees went squishy. No one, you'd decided, should look that good in jeans and a T-shirt. But there she was, with her hair pulled back into a loose knot, and green eyes that seemed to stare directly into you.

"Alright," Natasha Romanoff had said. "Let's train."

You'd done terribly. Steve and Nat had taken the two of you out into the real world. He'd put you in a busy street and both you and Natasha had taken turns trying to sneak up on Wanda. The assumption, of course, was that your ability to cloak yourself, paired with the ability to bend the light to change your appearance, would make you excellent at espionage and tailing. Problem was, every time Wanda even kind of looked in your direction your concentration had cracked and you started to glow.

Glow. Seriously. Like a lightening bug. A big ol' nimbus that screamed 'look at me'.

Fan-tastic.

That had been two and a half weeks ago and you hadn't got much better. But Natasha had taken it upon herself to turn you into the best spy she could, and Steve wanted Wanda to be more aware of her surroundings. So the pair of you kept getting forced into situations together.

It was a surprise you got any sleep at all, you think as you watch the water cup continue to hover. You reach for your floating cell phone and check the time. It was almost six in the morning. Early enough that you could get back to sleep if you try, late enough that you know that someone in the compound is bound to be awake.

You don't notice the glass shaking until a drop of water fell unto your cheek. It is lukewarm and dibbles down your skin, leaving a line of sensitive skin in its wake. Curious, your eyes dart up. The water sloshes around in a tiny whirl inside the cup, like a miniature aquatic tornado. It shakes harder and harder. With a tell-tale creak, a growing crack appears to one side. You dive beneath your blanket just in time. With a glassy scream it shatters. The nearly forgotten paperback goes whirling through the room, slamming into your bedroom window. The drawers of your dresser slap and creak. High tech blinds, resistant to all kinds of damage according to Stark, bend and shake. Streaks of chaotic light illuminate your room.

Then, amidst the steadily growing pandemonium of your room, you hear the sound of Wanda's cries. Before you can even think you yank your blanket back and charge the nine steps to her door. It takes all of your strength to pull it open, revealing the living horror scene within.

You know what an inescapable nightmare looks like, and it's written all over her. She's kicked the blankets off and she is twitching and groaning. Her face is twisted up with sadness and pain. The room mirrors her fright. Drawers of red and black clothing have been tossed like phantoms across the floor. Belts slither around like snakes. Cracks decorate picture frames and glass. The bed creaks in protestation, like some great, invisible weight is pressing down on it.

"Wanda?" you take a careful step into the room, ducking as a shoe flies out of the closet. You put what training Natasha has given you to use and treat the room like an obstacle course with Wanda as the goal. With agility you didn't have three months ago you duck, bend, and weave. You kept your eyes fixed on her as you navigate your way past hair supplies and leather jackets. "Wanda!"

The bedsheet seems to spring to life as you approach. It billows and pulses like it is breathing. It seems to shimmer with the red light of her magic, casting strange and lovecraftian shadows across the walls and you. You wish, not for the first time, that your ability had granted you something that let you attack. The best you'd managed was blinding so that you could run away. that required, you know, eyes. Bedsheets were notorious for their lack of eyes.

"Come on, Wanda," you mutter to yourself. "Wake up."

The next sound she makes is so close to a tear-filled sob that you swallow your fear, dive through the creepy sheet, and land on her bed. Your knee jabs against her leg. The external pain jerks her up and out of sleep, another cry caught in her throat.

"Hey," you say as soothingly as you can manage, "it's okay. I'm right here."

She makes a confused sound. Without her magic everywhere, it is dark. At last, something you can fix. You feel the heat of your own power rise and fill you, and you send it out through the room, casting a soft warm glow across the bed. The light illuminates her too-pale face and sweat-soaked features. It's her eyes that bother you the most. Their green depths are filled with some haunted truth that you can't even begin to fathom.

"Are you okay?"

She blinks, and swallows. "What time is it?" her voice, tinged with Serbia, is cracked and dry.

"Early."

She looks around the room. Her confusion gives way to embarrassment. "I was dreaming."

"You could call it that if you want." You want to reach out, touch her, offer some paltry show of comfort. But you hesitate. You aren't sure what she was dreaming, or if she wants to be touched. You've been working with her for weeks, thought about her in ways you wouldn't even confide to yourself, but you can't bring yourself to close that single gap without some kind of invitation. “Did you want to talk about it?”

The light of your magic turns her green eyes to glass. They peer at you, cool and empty. It's a trick of hers that you've noticed, this ability to put on a mask of absolute nothingness. Usually, it fascinates you. Right then you saw it for what it really was; protection.

“I'm sorry that I woke you,”

“Don't worry about that. Can I get you anything?”

She looks away, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. A little color has returned to her cheeks, but not much. Not enough that you'd be comfortable leaving her with whatever thoughts are haunting her dreams.

“I live in Stark Tower.” She says it like a curse, like it's some ugly, terrible thing. Since you don't understand it, you stay quiet, letting her speak at her own pace. “Growing up, Stark meant bad. It meant pain and weapons and explosions.”

To be fair, growing up Stark meant pretty much the same thing to you. But as you watch the way she continues to look off into the distant light, caught up in the memories of what was, you realize that the difference is that Stark, and everything that his company had stood for, had been the shield you'd been behind, not the weapon at your throat.

“He's given that up.”

“Has he?” Her gaze flicked to yours, a red light gleaming out of their depths. “He still makes weapons, he just gives them names and costumes now.” Her hand was like a phantom slicing through the air, encompassing the room and the destruction therein.

“Oh...Wanda,” you whisper. This time you do reach out and touch her shoulder. She does not move away. “You aren't a weapon.”

“Oh? Then what am I?” Her lips formed a grim line of defiance as if daring you to disagree.

You could tell her. You could use every word you know for amazing and beautiful, but it still wouldn't express exactly how you see her. Wanda has too much beauty in too many facets to be relegated to a few words. So you do the only thing you can think of.

With one hand you smooth out the rumpled bed sheets. With the other you beckon what little light is in the room and you start to twist it. A city street forms, reminiscent of the one where the two of you were paired together to fight. You recreate the people walking, the street vendors and their wares. You add in the cars and their bumper-kissing traffic. Every detail about that day that you can remember, you recreate. Then, when everything is just right, you add in a woman walking down the street. She is dressed in a pair of boots, worn to perfection, and an aged leather jacket. Every step is like a dance. The swing of her violin shaped hips is like music. Even the way the breeze catches her hair is an aria to her beauty.

“Wow,” she whispers.

Encouraged, you shift the scene. You add yourself to the moment, leaning against a light post with your face half hidden by your phone. You let the scene pick up the way you watched her that day, the fact that you couldn't keep your eyes off her. The way that the moment she turned and spotted you everything seemed to fracture and fall apart. Then you show her the next time it had happened, and the next.

“You are powerful,” you say, lost in your display, “but that's not all you are. You are also talented, kind, and smart. You could take your power and use it to rule the world ten times over, but instead, you sign up with the one and the only group that's trying their best to keep this planet spinning.” Your illusion shifts, focuses on her face. The rendering is nearly perfect. The way her eyes can go from flat and empty to angry to amused. The way her nose crinkles when she laughs. The flutter of her hair around the roundness of her lips. Every detail that has driven you mad in recent weeks. You don't even think about how honest you are being until she reaches out and touches your wrist. Her skin is cool against yours. Again, your phantom play shatters.

“I know,” she says softly, though there is an impish tilt to her lips. “I've known for a while.”

The way she says 'know' leaves no room for guessing her meaning. “Guess I've been kind of obvious. You make it hard to concentrate when we practice.”

“It's not that,” she answers. There is a softness to her. All that fear and self-doubt have evaporated. “Did you know that sometimes you bend light while you sleep?”

“Oh...oh no.” You hide your face suddenly behind your hands. Considering all of the dreams you've had about Wanda, you can only assume that she knows way too much. “I am so sorry.”

Her hand slides down your arm, tugging lightly until your fingers drop away from your face. When you open your eyes she is much closer than she had been, mere inches away. The red of her magic is shimmering around her.

“You came to my rescue tonight,” she says.

“I-”

She places a finger on your mouth, silencing you.

“I've always been the one saving others.”

She closes the distance between you slowly. You forget what it's like to breathe. or think, as her mouth presses ever so lightly against your own. Her hair brushes against your cheeks as she tilts her head, the soft press of her tongue slides against yours. You hear a moan, and are surprised when you realize it's coming from you. But when she returns the sound you melt into that kiss.

You shift your weight, pushing her down to the bed, riding her to the mattress in a slow, controlled motion. Her hand skips down your back as you taste her. The feel of her thighs wrapping around your hips sends electricity running to all the places that you like.

“Wow,” you whisper when you finally manage to pull away.

“I've been wondering.” She takes your hand, bringing your fingers to her lips, kissing the tip of each one in succession. “That heat that you give off when you do your projections...can you do that anytime?”

The weight of her words hits you like a hammer. “Well, there's really only one way to find out.”

[nessie665]

🖇🔍 📝 🗃 📓 📒

I want to know everything basically

🖇 What subjects or themes recur in your works?

As in WIPs I'm working on now, I'm going to say pinning and the desire to change, not always to be better, but to be something different and new.

🔍 What's been your biggest challenge in writing so far?

It doesn't matter how good of a day I'm having, the language barrier is always going to be a bitch. Maybe one day my brain is gonna do effortlessly what it now takes a massive amount of energy and concentration to do.

📝 What inspires you to write?

Chaos. The wonderful thing of writing is that when my brain is all messy, writing allows me to clean that mess, almost like taking out the clutter of my head and placing it on goggle doc. A sorcery indeed.

🗃 How many wips/projects are you currently writing?

Oh man, the thing with what I just said is that the mess is still there, no longer in my brain but on my docs, lets' see

-Spy x Phantom: I'm currently working on chapter 7 now, which may be the last, as I'm not sure if I'm planning to slice the story intro several works or just do one massive work.

-You are not a robot: my fnaf sb prequel/au, I'm only one chapter left to finish it. I'm so excited, there are plans for a sequel, but with the movie and new games coming out soon, the change in the canonical implications is making me back off a little.

-Coal to diamond, sold to fools:, listen, this was an iwtv holiday fanfic, for the 2022 season, it may be ready for the next one. Tbh, the problem is that I was never really sure what I wanted to do this one. Maybe once I figure it out it will be a piece of cake to write the rest, but until then, the at least 3 different versions for the next chapter are resting on the drafts.

Nothing new: now this one is actually new. It's a one maybe two shot inspired by the song of the said name, and it's about Christine struggling to keep up with her unexpected rise to fame and her teacher’s sudden apathy after the bistro, I had an idea of where I was going, but halfway it turned intro smut, and oh my god, how did that happen *scandalize gasp*

📒 Do you have any favorite characters to write?

Christine has just been really speaking to me lately, she used to be a tougher nut to crack in the past, so I'm thrilled about this development we are having

📓 What was the last sentence you wrote?

This took me so long to answer that the actual, well, answer has changed several times now, as in right now it's:

''She could taste the warmth of her skin, dreamt of the movement of her hips on her thigh, her hip bone under her fingers. Christine would think of name after name, look intro the folklore of her childhood, trying to find a way to call the angel that haunted her nights, to stole her name to keep her by her side.''

A little longer than a sentence, but I just don't know where to stop, those are 101 facts about me.

Thank you so much for you ask, hon. Your interest in my little disillusions is really flattering. <3

[nessie665]

Chapter 3 of the Spy x family Phantom au is up!

[nessie665]

Spy X Phantom — Chapter 1 & 2

Pairing: Fem!Erik x Christine

Summary: Phantom is the world's best spy, tasked with her most challenging mission yet - an undercover mission to get married and have a child.

Christine Daaé is an international recognized opera singer, 26 of age and dangerously close to spinsterhood, fearfully of the government targeting single woman

That's when she meets Erika, a regular civilian and a single mother in crisis that only wants her kids to have a good education and that can't under not circumstances get to know she is actually a skilled assassin

A marriage of convenience is forged, as the two of them tried to desperately hide their real identity from each other, they fail to see their biggest ally and biggest threat to their cover: their own children, given the gift of telekinesis and telepathy by human experimentation.

Or: Spy x Family meets Phantom au.

AO3 LINK

A/N: there was a very long time when I thought I would not do this again, but well here we are! Now a college dropout and still writing phantom fanficion, I will be back in college by January if things go well, but in the meantime I'm gonna write, and I'm gonna write that makes me happy, so here I have this super indulgent au, I hope that you might give it a chance! Even if you don't know the source material, I think we can have a fun ride anyways

This marks the end of my hiatus, thank you so much for all of your support, it means the world to me <3

[nessie665]

Spy X Phantom – Chapter 5: Power and Control

Pairing: Fem!Erik x Christine

Summary: Spy x Family meets Phantom au.

AO3 LINK

[nessie665]

Are you going to ever continue your old POTO Fics?

Thank you so much for caring, this type of message makes my whole week,

The answer is, definitely not now, but maybe? I talked before about having the 6h chapter of watlc almost done somewhere in the depths of Google Docs, and about the possibility about just go and finish it

And it would not be very difficult, bc I don't plan to continue from that, if I ever go back to that story is to re-write everything from the start of the series, and just for reference the original home series is 54k, so it's gonna take a loooong time to go back to where we were

But, I have a new story now! It's a spy x family au, it's call -not very originally- Spy x Phantom, it's a spies and assassins au set in the 70s in a post-war setting, and it's not a crossover or so, so you don't need to be familiar with the source material to be able to read the story,

It has been really fun to write, one of the things I loved more about and that I skipped over in older fanfics was following Erika and Christine as they fall in love, I'm trying to make it a slow burn, but this two may be a little bit intense for that, we will see

Also I'm really enjoying the world building, as it's the 70s yes, but this is a world where lgbtplus people have more rights, there is still stigma and homophobia, but it's a less harsh world to live in than the actual 70s, it's also set on Europe, what country of Europe, you ask? idk just Europe, I'm enjoying those ambiguous vibes, so I'm not naming where we are, but we are not really in French anymore

Here is the link of this story, if you decide to give it a try, I hope you enjoy it <3 the 4th chapter will be really and up soon

I'm so sorry for my very late and very long answer, I can't help but ramble sometimes, again thank you so much for your question <3

[nessie665]

I made this playlist for my Spy x Family Phantom au some time ago, and it has changed SO much since I first made it, and shhh, come here, a little bit closer *idk if anyone has noticed it yet, but the chapter names correspond to the tracks of this playlist, so if you want to know what's gonna happen next, have a look*

[nessie665]

hii i just finished reading Where a Thousand Lovers Cry for the second time and i was wondering if you would ever continue it, it really is such a beautiful story and its so nice to see lesbians being (semi) happy for once!! i was just really curious because its been so long since the last update and i really do love it!!!

Oh wow, I can't believe I got this ask! It's really blowing my mind that someone still cares about that fanfic! Thank you so much, I have been getting so much positive feedback for that story this year, and I'm a bit eager to reply as I'm so blow away.

And sorry I took so long to answer, but here we go

Okay so a lot had happened since my last update

I got my first work, I got intro medical school, and what finally killed my fanficion writer career was doing those 2 thing at the same time

Which is a thing you can do, I guess if you hate yourself that much, but for me was not it. It was harsh and long term unsustainable, and it wrecked my body and my heath in so many ways (that's what working 36 hours a week, sleeping 3-4 hours a night and having fried chicken as your main meal every day do to you)

So I'm dropping out after 3 semesters, and going intro a new career path. I took the decision a week ago, and it's incredible how much I changed since then, my face look different, my posture look different, I can feel my brain rewiring itself intro a more healthy mode.

So all that means, I will be college free until January, I'm still gonna be working, but I will have a lot of time in my hands

I'm planing to go back to the fanfic?

...ahh, maybe? There is SO MUCH editing I need to do, basically threw the whole story away and start again and tbh I forgot the plot at this point.

BUT, I want to use Erika and Christine again SO BADLY, my girls were so cute, I love them so much, and I don't really miss them bc I never let them go, truly.

Surprisingly chapter 5 of watlc is pretty much written in Google Docs, it's pretty chaotic tho, there are like 10 different versions of the same conversation and I can see why it was the chapter that broke me.

I have been thinking about just, go and finish it! Even if I don't know that happens next, why not, I just need to cut some material, patch some plot holes with lesbian fluff and call it a day while I think about how to fix it.

I recently starting writing with them again, just random stuff trying to familiarize myself with them again, like this super indulgent phantom spy x family au I have been writing and such xd. They have always been my main daydreaming source.

I kinda feel like a new writer stepping at middle season of a tv show, and I'm afraid I may not have what got people interested in my story anymore, but I will be happy to try

thank you again <3

[nessie665]

The first chapter from the spy x family phantom au I'm working on is giant, it's now 7k words, and it just keeps growing, at least I still got my inability to shut up I think xd

It's crazy to see how much my writing style is still the same in so many ways, and it's kinda disappointing as I thought I would be so much better by now, but I'm having the time of my life so I don't mind too much

The fic is set in the 70s, and I love 70s fashion, so I'm having so much fun on Pinterest, I will share the tab with you when it's least chaotic

Christine gets her fashion inspiration mostly from Agnetha Fältskog from ABBA, Lily James as Donna in mamma Mia 2 and Sharon Tate, and she is quite bold in her makeup choices, have you heard of the blue eyeshadow of doom from the 80s in alw poto productions? Something like that

While Erika got hers from Cher (which is a BOLD statement, but I'm talking mostly about hair and makeup, as well as some more casual outfits) Stevie Nicks and Kate Bush, as well as the general revival Victorian fashion had during this time, while also laying back on the androgyny this period had in some styles.

No idea why I'm rambling so much at 2 am, but hope you find it interesting!

[nessie665]

Here the playlist I did for my Phantom 70s AU on AO3 with a mix of songs pre-1975, the year the story takes place and modern ones, hope you enjoy it 💙

A link to the phanfic if you missed it

[nessie665]

Here are the "inspiration" for the outfits Erika and Christine are wearing in the first two chapters of my phantom 70s au, in quotes bc I made actually no variation of them in the story

Not a very phantom esque aesthetic except for the color palette, even if this one is a pastel version, but she is a spy in this one, so it's just a disguise, that's why is so plain and feminine

A link to the phanfic if you missed it

[nessie665]

Sneak peek of the fifth chapter of Spy x Phantom

It's been a hard couple of weeks, between trying to get back to college and my parent giving me material to write my characters' mommy and daddy issues more realistically, so I really fell back of the schedule

So here a snippet to next week's chapter, I hope it's of your liking <3

Erika stood between the two seats, placing one hand on each headrest, using the rearview mirror to look at herself. 

 ''I'm doom, just crash us into a post, time to fake my death'' Phantom complained, sitting down in a dramatic manner, looking defeated ‘’again’’ 

‘’Being the last person you'd be seen with would mean being the prime suspect, so I'm going to have to refuse." Nadir said casually, used to her theatrical tricks 

''I resemble myself! This whole ensemble, it's me!’’ She pointed to the mirror, as the reflection was a different person she was about to beat up in a bar. 

The black blazer did wonders for hiding the blood stains, fitting closely to her figure, doing nothing to conceal the sickly lanky thinness of her body, the low neckline leaving the white, painfully looking sharp angles of her collarbone visible 

Not to mention, the crown on the rotting corpse of the king, her blue mask placed carefully on her face  

Phantom was still covered in her own blood, but no amount of cleaning up would ease her distorted appearance. 

"Do I look like a mother of two right now, Nadir? Do I look like a doctor, a widow?" she wondered. 

"Yes, and murdered him yourself." Nadir laughed, clearly finding amusement in her misery. 

For AO3 link, click here