SOKOVIA ✦ marvel oneshots

sam

( agate! )

an: bucky looks like the monster from it follows and sam is his unsuspecting target in that gif.

. . .

   Witches were rare. Hidden little gems scattered throughout the world, their powers were coveted and feared. Real witches. Not ones born from powerful stones, or of alien descent.

    You were blessed with the gift to bridge to worlds on other planes. It started when you were a child, with the conjuring of a great, great grandmother's spirit from the afterlife. Your mother took days to recover from the shock of it all.

   As you grew, so did your powers. So did the target on your back. You see, the occult and all its delights comes with a dark side, like all things that be.

   You had chosen your path.

   There were those that wanted to choose for you.

   Today is one of those instances. It's not often a masked figure in a blood stained robe tries to subdue you with living chains that burn your flesh and crush your ribs. Though it isn't a surprise.

    They're a witch, too. One with a mastery of binding, and perhaps more, you can sense. But for now they're focused on sealing your powers away, and you for that matter.

    Your assailant hisses guttural words and the chains tighten around your arms and chest. You're panicking, now. How did this witch enter the compound? Where were your friends, are they alright?

    It's the last question that causes your body to grow rigid. Blood stained robes. Whose blood?

    The air is being squeezed out of your lungs, and your head feels like a balloon about to pop. But, you resist. There's an anger like no other coursing through your blessed blood. There's only one course of action you can take now: eternal damnation.

   "Advocabit," the word of power slips through your lips and the chains slacken in shock. The figure reels back, and their chanting grows fervid. Their mask tips and you see an excited smile on their pale lips, a mix of adrenaline and fear, and reverence. 

    "Please, don't summon a demon," Sam's voice as he barrels into the room. There's dried blood on the side of his mouth, and it makes you angrier. "I've got you---"

   He's cut off by a force that crushes him into the nearby wall. The witch laughs as Sam's body twists and strains against their will. Their fingers bend, deformed almost, as they string their power to keep him at bay.

   You're slipping away now, your conscious nearly bled dry. It takes your remaining strength to finally cross the two worlds as you mutter, "Veni, daemonium."

   The chains drop. A sickening crackle shakes the ground as the air besides the witch is sliced open. Their smile is gone, their laughter now pleading. They're in front of you, then they're gone.

   Sam's invisible prison is gone, too. He's beside you, running his hands over your back and muttering apologies and worries.

   You inhale, feeling your power course through your wounds and mend your bones. Sam visibly relaxes, seeing the bruises fade away on your skin.

    "Didn't I tell you not to summon a demon?" he asks with a half smile.

    "Technically, I didn't."

    Sam hoists you up, and you hook a hand behind his neck. "Yeah, no, just a portal to hell, where a demon pulled that son of a bitch in." He lifts your chin slightly to meet his eyes, his face softer now. "Not that I'm complaining, glad you're okay."

    "I'm glad you're okay." You strain up and pepper the side of his jaw with kisses. "What you did was very foolish, but so brave."

    Sam chuckles for a bit and nods. "Yeah well, I'd go to hell and back for you, quite literally."