Wanda Maximoff Multiversal Harem Hunter

The streets of New York City were alive with the usual chaotic energy. Car horns blared, people weaved through the crowds, and the buzz of urban life filled the air. Wanda Maximoff walked beside Natasha Romanoff, her crimson coat catching the eyes of passersby as they made their way through the bustling city.

"Are you sure Talia's here?" Wanda asked, glancing skeptically at Natasha.

"Positive," Natasha replied confidently. "I keep tabs on her. She's been working on something big and staying at Stark Tower. Trust me, she's not hard to find."

Wanda's skepticism was hard to shake. "The last time I dealt with Stark, her name was plastered all over weapons in Afghanistan."

Natasha smirked, her green eyes glinting with amusement. "Talia isn't a weakling, so she will want to know about that incident just as much as we do. She's got a sharp tongue, a more volatile temper, and—"

Before Natasha could finish, a commotion erupted ahead. Shouts and chants echoed through the streets, and a small crowd of protesters had gathered outside the gleaming Stark Tower. Wanda frowned as they approached, noticing the mob wasn't exactly peaceful.

A group of eco-terrorists, waving homemade signs and shouting slogans about saving the planet, surrounded the building. At the center of the chaos, Talia Ivory Stark, clad in a sharp black blazer and jeans, stood with a long plank of wood in her hands, holding her ground alongside a man Wanda assumed was her head of security.

Talia's platinum blonde hair caught the light of the afternoon sun, styled effortlessly in a way that framed her angular features. Her ice-blue eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanned the mob with a mix of disdain and amusement. Despite the chaos, she exuded grace and control, her poised figure a testament to her confidence and strength.

"Happy, are you even trying?" Talia snapped as she swung the plank, smacking an overly enthusiastic protester on the shoulder. The man yelped and stumbled back, clutching his arm. "You're supposed to keep them out, not let them trample me!"

"Maybe if you'd invest in a better security system, this wouldn't happen!" Happy Hogan shot back, landing a clumsy shove on another protester.

The eco-terrorists, though unarmed, were clearly out for blood—or at least a few bruises to make their point. One of them, a lanky man with a megaphone, shouted dramatically, "Stark Industries is killing the environment! Weapons of mass destruction are destroying our forests and wildlife! We demand justice!"

"You're standing on concrete in New York City," Talia retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What wildlife? The rats?"

The protesters paused for a moment, but the mob mentality soon reignited their fervor. Someone hurled a carton of spoiled milk, which narrowly missed Talia and splattered against the wall behind her.

"Alright, that's it," Talia growled, gripping the plank tighter. "Happy, step aside. Sometimes these eco-terrorists need a good beating. It's the New Yorker way."

Natasha nudged Wanda. "Looks like the party started without us."

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Are they serious? They're not even armed."

"That doesn't mean they don't deserve a lesson," Natasha replied, cracking her knuckles. "This is New York, after all."

The pair strode forward, their presence drawing the attention of the mob. One of the protesters, a woman with blue hair and a ripped tank top, sneered at them. "Oh, great, more goons for the billionaire class. What are you gonna do, call the cops?"

Wanda tilted her head, her crimson eyes flashing faintly. "No. I'm going to do something much more effective."

With a flick of her wrist, Wanda conjured a small burst of chaos magic that sent a row of protesters tumbling backward like bowling pins. The rest of the crowd froze, their confidence wavering as they stared at her.

"Whoa, whoa!" the megaphone-wielding protester shouted, holding up his hands. "You're not supposed to fight back! This is New York City, damn it! The mob mentality wins!"

Natasha chuckled, pulling a protester off Talia with a firm grip and sending him stumbling. "Yeah, that's another New York custom: angry mobs. But sometimes, they need a good beatdown."

Wanda smirked, stepping forward. "Well, then, let's teach them some manners."

What followed could only be described as a comedic beatdown. Natasha moved with practiced precision, disarming the rowdier protesters with swift jabs and well-placed kicks. Wanda, meanwhile, used her magic to create harmless but humiliating effects—levitating protesters off their feet, knocking them into each other, and even turning one man's homemade sign into a glowing red balloon that floated away.

Talia, not one to be outdone, swung her plank with impressive accuracy. One particularly loud protester caught the edge of it across his thigh and yelped, limping away with a muttered curse. "That's what you get for trying to ruin my day!" she shouted after him.

One protester, clutching his bruised arm, glared at Talia. "You're supposed to be scared of us! We're the righteous ones here!"

Talia snorted. "Righteous? You threw spoiled milk at me. Go home."

Happy, who had spent most of the fight corralling stragglers, wiped his brow and sighed. "Only in New York."

As the last of the eco-terrorists scattered, grumbling and nursing their bruises, Talia turned her attention to Wanda and Natasha. She took a moment to assess Wanda, her sharp ice-blue eyes narrowing as she adjusted her blazer.

"Well, you're not the reinforcements I expected," Talia said, her tone dry but laced with curiosity. Her gaze lingered on Wanda's crimson aura. "Interesting. I don't believe we've met."

Natasha stepped forward, a wry smile on her lips. "Talia, meet Wanda Maximoff. Queen of Sokovia. Wanda, this is Talia Ivory Stark, the genius who's probably already trying to figure out how your magic works."

Talia raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. "Queen, huh? And here I thought I was intimidating."

Wanda offered a faint smile. "I've heard a lot about you. The question is, should I be impressed?"

"Oh, you will be," Talia replied confidently. "Once we've had a proper introduction."

The tension between them was palpable, but there was also a spark of curiosity—on both sides. Natasha, sensing the potential for either a great alliance or a disaster, clapped her hands together.

"Alright, introductions made. Now, how about we head inside before another mob shows up?"

The three women made their way into Stark Tower, leaving behind the aftermath of the mob's failed riot. As they disappeared into the sleek interior, Talia glanced back at Wanda, her mind already racing with questions about the mysterious queen of Sokovia.

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